Blue Haze
by WhisperedSilvers
Summary: Sometimes it was hard to distinguish what was a dream and what was reality. Battle-City Arc. Yami/Téa. Atem/Teana
1. The Anklet

**Blue Haze**

 **By: WhisperedSilvers**

 **Prompt: "Here in this dimension, you and I are meant to be."**

 **Summary: Sometimes it was hard to distinguish what was a dream and what was reality. Battle-City Arc.**

* * *

 **The Anklet**

* * *

Her feet moved quickly, the inhabitants of the room did not notice when she dashed out, looking for the Egyptian woman. How could they, when Yugi was given the millennium necklace?

"Ishizu! Wait up! " Téa called out, her feet slowing down to stop when the darker woman halted in her steps. "I have a question for you. If Yugi defeats the dark force inside Marik, does that mean the world will be safe from danger? Tell me." Her fists tightened, azure orbs darkening, "Is there another evil out there?"

The Egyptian woman frowned, her turquoise orbs dejected, when she replied her tone was somber, "I do not know. But Yugi now possesses the powers to discover these answers." Something inside her told her to give her the gift she has been preserving for some time, but was it the right time?

"Téa," Ishizu started slowly, "I want you to have something," She pulled something from the inside of her sleeve, gold twinkling under the lights. It felt like a feather in her hand, but it twinkled when she brushed the charms, "Here, it is an anklet."

The Egyptian woman grabbed the brunette's wrist and dropped the trinket into her hand. When Téa opened her palm, the anklet was a smooth gold coil, a half-inch thick and with small, delicate gems dangling from the coil. The clasp was of the millennium eye; winking when it was open and when it was locked it evened out into an open eye.

"You mustn't take it off. It will not rust when it is exposed to water, heat or salt—that being said it is priceless, pure gold." Ishizu warned, "Leave it on, it shall provide you…much wisdom."

She was hesitant on whether or not to accept this gift, "Will it help Yugi?"

Téa wanted to know if she would be stuck in the sidelines again—useless. The word bothered her like poison seeping into her very soul, clawing it's way into her subconscious, developing insecurities into her heart.

Ishizu pursed her lips; her eyes glimmered with something that the brunette couldn't place, "In a matter of speaking…yes."

"Thank you, Ishizu." Téa's gratitude was heart-felt, her lashes lowered till they brushed her cheek, but the small quirking of her lips was enough to prove her appreciation.

She nodded, "Good evening, Téa."

She left.

The brunette leaned against the wall, the anklet felt heavy in her hand, like a piece of lead. She watched the Egyptian woman leave and walk towards her room. Sapphire orbs flickered to the piece of jewelry; how on Earth will this help her, help Yugi? Within the span of five minutes there were many things that she wanted to question the raven-haired woman, the most important of them all is _how_ —how will this trinket help her acquire much needed wisdom. She supposed it was a millennium item—it was enough reassurance of course, but it left her confused—how?

"Hey Téa!" Yugi's voice broke her thoughts; she looked down to see him in his pajamas—light blue pinstripes, he even had a matching hat. The corner of her lips twitched, as if she were trying to restrain herself from smiling.

"Hey Yugi," A pause, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

He chuckled, in the same sheepish manner as he ever did, "Yeah. Well, I couldn't sleep. I was going to see if Joey wanted to have a mock duel—why aren't you in bed?"

She raised an eyebrow, "I was talking to Ishizu," She held up the trinket towards the light, gold glittering like stars, "She gave me this—a gift."

Amethyst orbs widened, "Is that _another_ millennium item?"

Téa shrugged, "I don't think so," Her eyes narrowed at the insignia, "It's too light and too simple to be a millennium item, despite the eye. Ishizu wouldn't give me something _that_ powerful. She said it would help me acquire wisdom, and of course, you can never be too overeducated, Yugi."

He laughed at that, "Of course, Téa. So what is it?"

"An anklet."

"What?"

Téa rolled her eyes; "I wear it around my ankle."

"Oh." A pause, "Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?"

"Hey! Don't think you can mock _my_ fashion sense. You wear leather as if it's going out of style." Téa snapped back half-heartedly, her eyes teasing, "Besides, she said I shouldn't take it off."

"Why?"

That was _not_ Yugi's voice.

It was deeper, warmer and a whisper of velvet that caressed his tone. Grand, opulent even, it _demanded_ attention.

Azure orbs locked onto burgundy.

Téa felt a touch of anxiety run threw her veins, she allowed her nails to bite into the skin of her palm. "She didn't say and I didn't ask."

He stared at her before he replied, "Téa, I do not want you to be caught into the middle of this—"

She interjected before she could get her feelings hurt, "Pharaoh. I'm keeping this anklet. If it will help you, if it well help my friends—if it will help the _world_ —I do not care what happens to me," She inhaled shakily, "I am _not_ going to stand on the sidelines just like in Duelist Kingdom—no. I refuse to stand there and be useless." Her cobalt orbs hardened like diamonds—untouchable, "I am _not_ an oversight."

The Pharaoh was taken back, burgundy orbs fractionally widened; even in Yugi's nightclothes did Yami manage to look just as bit as intimidating as he was on the field. He tilted his head slightly; his wild locks drooping imperceptibly towards his left. His voice was a quiet rumble, "Téa, when have I ever suggested that you were incompetent."

Téa's jaw had a subtle twitch, she wouldn't lie, the Pharaoh's words, if ever had he wielded a weapon—Téa was sure that his words could have also been used at one time, a blade—for the way he carefully chose his words and constructed his sentences—with deliberate and scrupulous care—it could damage someone—she would have to be careful.

"You didn't have to say anything."

"You did not answer my question."

She looked away from him, "It was implied."

Yami was silent.

Téa refused to budge; she would stand her ground, even if it meant arguing with the Pharaoh, which really never ended well—at least for his enemies, she didn't know about his friends, but when he sighed, she knew that she won for now.

"Yugi was right," He muttered softly, his eyes were warm when he looked at her, "I should never argue with you Téa," His eyes alone, pinned her to the floor, wine-colored orbs narrowed, dark lashed brushing the highest points of his cheekbones, "Just please be careful."

She mock saluted, wondering if Joey had rubbed of on her, "Yes my king."

He gave her a dry look and she laughed.

The tension suddenly forgotten, it was late and Téa needed sleep—but she liked this. She liked this buoyant feeling. She liked this contentment. She liked when he laughed, she liked how deep it sounded and how it vibrated from the confines of his chest—like soft thunder drenched in honey. She liked when he had this soft look on his face, she didn't know how to explain it—his eyes were softer than satin and rich like wine, and the corner of his lips would tilt just the _slightest_ —she mentally shook her head; it was just a crush.

 _It had to be just a crush_.

She remembered when she used to feel so nervous around, so anxious—like her heart would jump out of her chest when she spoke to him. It wasn't that she was _scared_ of him per se, no he was just so, so _intense._ Intimidating, but Téa prided herself to not be scared of anything—Yugi trusted him, but then again, Yugi would trust _anyone._

This man would have her running to the hills screaming for her sanity.

"Téa?"

His voice broke her out of her thoughts; she paused before replying quickly, "Sorry, guess I'm just a bit more tired than I thought."

Yami's eyes flashed amethyst for a moment before they returned to burgundy, he responded apologetically, "Oh. I apologize for holding you, Téa."

Téa shook her head, mostly to herself and partially to him, her eyes warmed at the spot over his shoulder, "Don't worry about it. Just get some sleep Pharaoh, you have a long day tomorrow."

He looked at her again, his eyes gentle and his mouth curling her favorite expression—she had to crush that small sense of hope that bloomed in the pillars of her heart.

 _Don't_.

"Good night, Téa."

And, oh, how heart leapt at his genuine, heart-felt tone—she swallowed the nervous giggle that was about to curl up her throat, "Night' Pharaoh."

Téa left him standing in front of his room, she didn't look back—she couldn't.

When she entered her room, she locked the door. Sighing, she pulled out her nightclothes—she had enough excitement for one day. It was like one evil and then another—her fists clenched—if Marik lays one hand on _any_ of her boys there will be hell to pay.

Deciding to skip the pants, she slipped on a big t-shirt. Just long enough to cover her backside, the anklet twinkling with every step she made towards her bed. She made a mental list of some improvements for the guestroom—just to piss Kaiba off.

Flicking off the switch on her lamp, she laid on the bed. Téa's eyes began to close, a fog, a soft drowsy fog began to swirl in her mind, lulling her to sleep—

She groaned, "I am going to sleep _so_ good tonight."

Pulling the blanket over her body, she fell asleep once her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Téa was having such a wonderful dream. She was swimming, swimming in the bluest of oceans, with the sun shining warmly onto the surface and her hair flying in the currents. She heard a laugh, a deep laugh—the Pharaoh's laugh. Warm and bright like the sun itself. She sighed dreamily, such a _good_ dream.

Her bed was so warm, not hot like the scorching summer, but the type of warmth that made her blood sing. Like the fireplace on a cold winter night, the kind of warmth where you could curl up in a fuzzy blanket and moan because the rain was falling in a sweet serenade.

Carelessly, she tossed a leg over the warmth and curled up to the warmer spot of her mattress. Then the warmth ran the back of her thigh in a slow, seductive caress, starting from underneath the back of her knee to where here hamstring ended.

That was a _hand._

Téa's eyes shot open. Immediately she regretted her instincts. The blinding sun, burning her retinas, it was like bright lightening flashing across her sensitive eyes. Whimpering, she buried her head into her pillow, and she came to a sudden realization—pillows weren't warm, nor did they move.

Gods, it was someone's _chest._

Slowly, ever so cautiously, she flickered her eyes up, innocently and she caught the Pharaoh's amused wine-colored orbs. Different was the only word to describe him. The man was richly tan, he had _earrings_ —which was pretty attractive if she did say so herself—her hands pressed against her pillow, which actually _wasn't_ a pillow, but his chest, and _holy crap he's shirtless._

She felt a blush flood her cheeks despite herself.

Téa wondered if she cracked. Did the insanity finally get to her? Had the mindless duel monsters finally broke down her sanity? Because clearly, there was _something_ wrong with her—she was _not_ in her right mind. She was slightly proud of the fact that, she did not scream nor did she pass out. She was shocked out of her mind, but then the Pharaoh did his little twist of the lip—all thoughts flew out the window.

"Are you alright, love?" The Pharaoh asked and the hand on the back of her thigh slid down the back of her knee and back up again.

Téa blinked, she closed her eyes shut, but the scene in front of her didn't change. Did he just call her _love_? For the love of what's good and holy—she was dreaming, she _had_ to be dreaming—her heart began to race, sprint actually.

But then she looked around her room—this wasn't her room. No. It was gold, with high arches and marble floors and antique decorations. White pristine, white curtains and lovely green potted plants—open windows and holy hell that was a _pyramid_ outside the window.

The only logical answer was that yes, this _is_ a dream. And if this was a dream, she didn't need to feel ashamed. Nope. She did not, after all this was _her_ subconscious going insane.

"Teana?" He asked worriedly, he brushed the side of her cheek; she hadn't spoken since she woke up. Was it the heat?

 _Teana?_

Now she _knew_ she was dreaming. Teana was the name she created if she should Egyptian heritage in her blood—but seeing with her blue eyes and pale skin—she wasn't sure.

"I'm fine," Téa assured him soothingly, "Just a bit disorientated."

The Pharaoh immediately pulled her underneath him, his head resting in the valley between her breasts. His eyes closed, he pressed a kiss to her sternum, and he inhaled deeply. "Is it the heat? I can have the magic-users cool the room if you would prefer."

It was a good thing Téa wasn't standing, she would sure that her knees would buckle under his affectionate words and hold. She nearly squeaked, Gods, this was a _wonderful_ dream.

"I'm fine." She responded, hesitating for the briefest moment, she ran his hand shakily threw his wild locks and she almost melted. Her heart singing, she wasn't aware of the beautiful smile that was painted on her lips. "I'll be fine."

Suddenly, the Pharaoh lifted his head. A look covered his eyes and she nearly gaped—she had never seen that look on his face before. Crimson orbs glinted with flecks of gold, it was darker, sinful and those lips of his curled into carnal smirk. Dark, exotically slanted lashes brushed his cheeks, and it was times like this she remembered that Yami was a _king._

Grand. His presence was simply overwhelming, the intensity of his eyes had a coil twisting hard in her gut, and dear Gods—she almost whined.

"I can make you feel better." His tone was like velvet, smooth and made goosebumps appear under her white nightgown—if she could call it nightgown—it was a mere scrap that rid up her stomach and shielded her chest—she was _not_ wearing this when she went to bed.

Téa swallowed, she fought the anxiety, replying with a raised eyebrow, "Oh?"

His smirk grew more pronounced, suddenly, he yanked the sheets that the two were covered with, her smaller body at his disposal, and suddenly she felt very, very small—feminine. The _man_ was on top of her, she didn't know what on earth—

With his forearms on either side of her head, he slowly removed his head from her chest, brushing his lips over her sternum, up her clavicle and up towards her chin—

She was nearly shaking, and _holy crap_ —was this really happening—

His lips, rough and blazing caught her soft velvet ones in a slow, almost frenzied kiss. His nose brushed hers, his lashes brushed her cheeks, but he kept kissing her, burning her with his lips, he wiped any sense of rational thought from her being. His teeth caught her lower lip and he tugged. Gnawing on the small flesh, he grabbed her jaw to maneuver to a better angle, her lips parted as her hands made way into his hair. Her finger weaving into messy locks, she nearly squeaked when his tongue, brushed the contours of her mouth. He was almost lazy in his pursuit; slow meticulous strokes of his tongues and when he tapped the roof of her mouth _just right—_ she arched back and _purred._

He pulled back to grab a lungful of air, peppering her jawline her neck with kisses and soft bites. She gasped for air; her mouth felt almost arctic cold at the loss of heat. His teeth grazed the soft flesh from the beginning of her clavicle to the underside of her jaw, his eyes were dark burgundy—almost mahogany and she moaned arching her hips into his—he responded by grinding his hips into hers—

She threw her head back.

 _Holy fuck—_

This did _not_ feel like a dream. It felt way too _good_ to be a dream. His kisses lingered on her neck, and she was so hyperaware of him, not even Egypt's heat could rival the fire that was growing inside her blood.

A knock on the door broke Téa's thoughts.

"Pharaoh, my queen, the meeting with the leader of the lower level of Nubia will begin shortly, breakfast will be served soon," That sounded a lot like Mr. Muto, she concluded and the Pharaoh fell on top of her with a miserable groan—she had to hold a smile back—how childish.

"We will be out shortly, Shimon." The Pharaoh's voice was contradicting to the way his nose fit inside the crook between her neck and her jaw.

When he was certain that his vizier had left, he placed his lips on her thundering pulse. "I _really_ don't want to go to this meeting."

She couldn't help but snort at the incredulity of the situation, "You do realize that you _are_ king."

Yami gave her a quick bite on the sensitive patch skin just above her collarbone, she yelped and swatted him, "You have to go too, or did you forget?"

"Oh, I _know_. But I also know how you hate pointless speaking."

Téa did a mental backtrack, how did she pick _that_ up? She knew that Yami hated when his enemies spoke and how they seemed to monologue—it irritated him. But it seemed like she _knew_ him—the thing was, she did _know_ him, but she didn't know him as the King of Egypt, no, she knew him as the Spirit of the puzzle, she knew him as a friend—not as friend—

All thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Did his attendant say, _queen_?

As in Queen of Egypt?

As in the Pharaoh's wife?

As in _married?_

The Pharaoh unknowingly broke threw her mental breakdown with a laugh, "Guess we will have to suffer together."

Téa couldn't form words, she couldn't form a coherent sentence—the shock had clouded her brain into a fractured never-ending loop of incredulity. So she just looked at him.

The Pharaoh's wine-rich eyes, half-lidded scalded her skin, his voice was predatory when he spoke, "We could take a bath before we have breakfast,"

She tried not to blush, she tried to force the blood downwards, and suddenly that was a bad idea. Gods, she was hormonal seventeen year-old girl and he was a very attractive man—very attractive man, and she really, really liked him—they were _married_ for God's sake!

A wet, naked body should be the least of her thoughts—now she was trying to imagine it and with a weak grip on reality, she squeaked.

It was quite frankly, a miracle, when she pushed down her nearly hyperventilating self and evened her voice into a smooth, yet lightly annoyed sigh, "We don't have that much time and I'm starving—"

He swallowed the rest of her words with a wet, thorough kiss that had her head spinning and her limbs trembling. She barely had enough sense to respond back, the smell of him—like velvet and the warm sea—fresh like an ocean breeze, and deep with spices of kohl—

"And I'm positive that I can appease your hunger." It was a growl and it had places of her trembling with delight.

She grabbed his biceps, melting just faintly, at his muscled forearms that flexed, pressing her deeper into the mattress—Téa, with the twist of her hips flipped him under her, she sat on his lap with her legs crossed, her mouth yanked away from him.

"Don't think I don't know when you're trying to distract me," Téa refrained saying his name, assuming that she probably called something else.

The Pharaoh looked so utterly miserable, he almost pouted and she wanted to laugh at his face.

How precious.

"Teana—" There was that name again, "You shouldn't tease your husband."

That warm feeling came back into her stomach, his wife. Sunshine was the only word to describe that happy feeling. She tilted her head and smiled brilliantly—his breath caught in his throat at the incredible picture in front of him, "I'm not teasing you husband, just telling the truth."

With a quick flurry of limbs, she was off the bed and stretching tiredly. Now, where were her clothes? If she were a native Egyptian, where would she put her clothes? It looked like a draw, she concluded, it sat in the corner of her room, which was probably bigger than Kaiba's blimp.

No, this wasn't hers—she pulled out what looked like her husband's robes, trying not to look suspicious, she flung his robes at her husband, ignoring his huff of amusement, she searched for another drawer. It was bigger and wider—made from pale, marble, and sliding open the cover, she pulled out a green dress.

It was a deep green dress, with two straps that pulled into a halter; the cutouts of her breasts down the sides of her ribs were the only exposed skin at the top, the strings were connected to a thick rope of gold that hooped around her neck as a make-shift necklace, with two slits down the sides of her legs where the cloth fell down towards her gold strappy sandals—Egyptian silk was _amazing._

Now the question was, did she change in front of her husband—who was the freaking _Pharaoh_ , or did she go into another room to change—this was way _too_ complicated.

"Yes, you are a tease," The Pharaoh interrupted, he snaked his hands around her waist and when the _hell_ did he grow? His chin rested on top of her head, "You're going to wear my favorite dress."

"I didn't know you wore dresses," She replied dryly, she was pleasantly surprised to feel his fingers dig into the sides of her ribs threw the thin cloth of her nightgown, a puddle of giggles erupted from her mouth as she flinched and squirmed in his grasp.

"You're quite snarky today, did the heat blind you or something, dear?" He said almost languidly as he dug his fingers into her sides, trying not to smile at her laughs.

"Something like that—we are going to be late!" Téa squeaked, she dropped low and spun on her heels—thank the Gods' for dancing lessons, she twirled around, pointing a finger at her back and barked, "Go change!"

The Pharaoh laughed, openly and whole-heartedly. She had to mentally slap the lovesick smile that wanted to slide onto her face. "As my queen commands."

She paused in mid-way opening her dress, before grinning sharply, "That's right—as _I_ command."

Another muffled laugh.

Téa never heard him laugh so much before, it was a novel experience—she took a quick peek—he tugged on his shirt, his back muscle rippled—focus Téa.

Slipping her nightgown off, she quietly slid into her dress, it took a minute to fix the clasp, but she adjusted the gold choker that connected the two thick straps of her dress, her back lay expose, there was a gold thick belt—she cursed silently, she had to hook the belt across her back—

Warm, strong fingers took the back of her belt, and knotted the chains together, Yami chuckled, and "You always forget to loosen this knot, Teana—what am I going to do with you?"

She scoffed despite herself, "I don't know."

Téa really didn't know. She was actually sad that this was a dream—a really good dream, a brilliant dream, mentally thanking her subconscious for this wonderful delusion—whimpering just the slightest when he brushed his lips up the ridges of her spine.

She shrugged him off and slipped on her sandals. Running a hand threw her short—nope, she had long hair now. Reaching just five inches above her hip, wavy from the humidity in the hair and so many freaking knots!

She scowled when her fingers got tangled in her nest of hair—her scalp stinging at the brutal treatment.

"Easy, easy." A brush, where the hell did he get a brush? He untangled her hair with gentle strokes.

"Husband, if you do not hurry up, and I do not get breakfast, there _will_ be problems. You _know_ how I am when I do not get food." Téa was bluffing of course, but she wanted to see the kingdom—just what did her imagination cook up?

He paused mid-stroke, threading his fingers into her long hair, he pulled her head backwards and pecked her nose, and he chided teasingly, "Patience dear."

Her eyebrow twitched.

After the Pharaoh finished brushing her hair, he placed the brush back on the bed. He turned her around, and Téa took a good look at him. Gold earrings, gold armbands, gold necklace, gold crown, gold rings, and bracelets—the man could _accessorize._

"You didn't even put your jewelry on, Teana," He clucked his tongue in mock-disappointment and suddenly; she was overcome with the urge to clock him. Which was quite surprising, she never wanted to cause _physical harm_ to Yami before. But she didn't know that he was capable of being playful and gentle and wonderful—

 _Crush Téa, it's a crush!_

He delicately hooked her earrings on, gold chandeliers. Slipping on her bracelets with slow movements, placing a ring on her middle, ring finger, and both thumbs. Gingerly he placed her crown onto her hair, the gold band jingling with every move of her head. It was hard to not smile at his gentle and sweet gestures.

"There, am I presentable?" Téa raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in almost impish manner.

Yami tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes always so gentle. The wind from outside blew into the room, her dress wavering with the movement, exposing lean, pearly legs. His eyes darkened and she pretended not to notice.

"Perfect."

This time Téa couldn't stop the kiss she pressed onto his cheek. It took a moment for her to comprehend what she just did. She kissed the Pharaoh, willingly—her heart hammering in her chest.

This is a dream— _this was a dream_.

She told herself to take advantage of this dream, because when she woke up—this—all of this, would be gone.

"Okay, I need food now," She laughed sheepishly, grabbing his hand before leaving the room. He grinned openly, and threaded his fingers in-between hers. She smiled.

The walk to kitchen wasn't a long walk. His palace was incredible, with long gold pillars and white marble flooring. This place was incredible. She nearly skipped through the place; well she owned it—partially. This was great!

The kitchen was triangular; with open columns and blue glass windows and she nearly twisted her neck looking at the Royal Guard. This dream just became _strange._ Kaiba, Kaiba was the High Priest, with his haughty and confident demeanor—dear God, did she _drink_ something before she went to sleep? Shimon, the man that was knocking on her chamber's door earlier, looked like Mr. Muto. Isis—basically Ishizu, Mahad, Shadi, Karim and Akhenaden—that man gave her the creeps.

"Good morning Pharaoh, my Queen." Seto greeted, bowing and she had to pinch herself—this was _really_ happening.

"Good morning Seto," The Pharaoh's voice was deeper, grander if that was possible, and it had no undertone affection than the voice he was using with her earlier, he gave her small hand a slight squeeze.

"Morning." Téa replied and she yelped when something grabbed her from behind. The Pharaoh's eyes were startled, an immediate scowl plastered onto his lips, until he turned around and his expression melted—only fond exasperation lay.

"Good morning Teana!" It was a girl's voice, small and sweet. But the girl could crush her bones if she wasn't careful.

"Mana, please, unhand my wife." The Pharaoh commanded dryly.

"You're just sad she loves _me_ more," Mana beamed, chocolate-colored orbs glittered like topaz and she squeezed her even harder.

Yami narrowed his eyes, yanking Téa towards him, scowling at his childhood friend when she flopped over awkwardly and she glared. He gritted out, "She married me for a reason."

"And you think the reason is that she _loves_ you?" She replied sarcastically, she latched onto her Queen's arm with soft eyes. "She loves me!"

While she absolutely loved the visible possessiveness the Pharaoh was giving her, and the security he was providing, she didn't like the thought of being treated like a ragdoll.

"Quit it! My arms aren't rope you can pull on!" Téa scowled, she patted Mana on the head, "Of course, I love you Mana."

Mana beamed.

Téa was sure that the girl was a dear friend, no one expressed that much genuine happiness and innocence just like that. In a way, Mana reminded her of Yugi.

"And I did marry you for a reason, husband." The brunette drawled out, blue eyes glittering like sapphires, she grabbed his hand and stated bluntly, "And I also told you that if I didn't get any food that there would be problems."

He gave her look and she winked.

Breakfast was quick, couple strings of grapes, some cheese, bread—who knew that they drank wine in the morning—her mind was fuzzy, but the good kind of fuzzy. Téa felt like feather, light and airy. She thought it was quite odd that she was sitting on the throne next to the Pharaoh.

Because it was really weird—did her subconscious think that she should be a queen? But Téa wasn't complaining—honestly.

The leader of the lower realm of Nubia was quite petite. He had dark stark eyebrows, a long beard despite his childish stature—eyes that were the color of hazel—

"We have acquired the crates of grain, perhaps cotton would be proper payment? After all your weavers make such lovely linens, silk? Our trade with Africa has brought in oil as well, the demand for wicker lamps is slowly decreasing, and oil is relatively cheap perhaps—"

Téa nearly groaned. Bartering. She remembered this; she took a course in econ and business for elective purposes. It was like a question from her finals being mapped out onto her face—

That and she took an ancient civilization course—which ironically focused mostly on Ancient Egypt, despite the land being rich in well, everything—they were more advanced than most civilizations.

"—I don't think that would be a fair trade. The use of oil would be more beneficial for my people, rather than the nobles here in the palace—"

She almost smiled.

Yami is an incredible king.

"—what about livestock? We both have enough gold that could last thousands and thousands of years! Perhaps papyrus would be better. We have multiple buildings that are being created for schools—"

"That is true. Egypt is quite scarce in animals, perhaps we can—"

Téa thought about the resources that Egypt had to offer. Gold, they were basically inflated with gold. Papyrus was quite abundant too, paper, bandages—medicine—they needed a lot of medicine, the desert is dry and they don't have much herbs. Should someone be injured they would need to treat the patient quickly. They had excellent seamstress—

"Teana, is there anything you would like to add?" The Pharaoh spoke to his queen. Her blue eyes were narrowed onto the ruler of the lower level of Nubia, analyzing—she was a fox when she needed to be.

"I think we should lessen the imports of oil. Herbs and vegetation should be the most of our concerns, we should be able to export our clothing as well, and the linens here are made with high quality. Jasmine, eucalyptus root and ginger is very rich in your land is it not, my lord?" Téa replied, her eyes were cold like ice—but they were calculating. It was a well-crafted reply; it was deliberate—almost suffocating the man with her highly thorough information.

She silently thanked her shark of an economics professor.

The Pharaoh looked at her with raised brows. Clearly he wasn't expecting that answer from her, surprise was the least of his concerns. He turned back to watch the man pale in comprehension—his cheap negotiations weren't going to fool the queen.

Téa knew if oil were cheap, abundant and accessible—the value would go down. But what was more, was that Nubia was lacking in papyrus, if they were in dire need of papyrus—it wasn't a fair trade. But Egypt was also in need of herbs, medicine in particular, it was a necessity—the harsh weather couldn't cultivate such a necessity. They would have to trade for it.

"Of course my Queen. We also have pumpkin and—"

She waved him off, "I want all your herbs, jasmine, saffron, ginger, mint—and lessen the oil imports. That should be it."

The ruler was being pressured into submitting and silently cursing his oblivious ways, he conceded.

When he left the Pharaoh looked at her, he twisted his body to curl into the corner of his chair, "Now why would you do that?"

Téa laughed, "It's quite simple, darling. You see, if oil is cheap and assessable naturally the value would lessen. So if you gave them papyrus, which they were in dire need of it—it wasn't a fair trade. I suggested that we use herbs, because I'm positive that we are low on medicine. If there should be an attack or a plague—anything, it would be better to be prepared, right?"

The royal court wasn't present in the room at the moment, they were escorting the ruler of the lower reign of Nubia out of the palace—it was just the two of them.

The Pharaoh looked at her with such affection and gentleness, that she nearly cried—why did it have to be a dream.

"How did you know they were low on papyrus?"

Well she couldn't exactly tell him that she learnt it in her history class…

"He was pushing you to buy extra oil while he gained a mountain of papyrus—for less—that wasn't exactly ethical. It was common sense." Téa explained, her pointer finger motioning up in a dignified manner.

He laughed and there was that fuzziness that swarmed in her stomach, again. His burgundy orbs glittered with pride, he moved to kiss her and she jumped out of the throne—gliding down the steps. She didn't know what on Earth possessed her to tease the Pharaoh; he looked at her stupefied.

"You can't kiss me in the throne room! People might see," She laughed, and then she winked, "Catch me if you can."

And then she was running.

He growled playfully and then he shot off like a bullet.

Téa ran in between pillars, twirling in the wavering white curtains, ducking behind the maids and leaping into the air like she did in ballet class. Graceful. She was always graceful. Dancing, she was dancing and laughing—oh, how she would cry when she woke up.

But then an arm grabbed her around the middle, and a hand covered her mouth. Her heart leapt into her throat, the arm yanked her back and she felt the sharp edge of the puzzle and she nearly wilted in relief. Too many things were happening in her life.

The Pharaoh pulled her into a secluded hallway, a corner tucked in between two walls with a curtain covering them and she almost giggled—she felt like a teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend—never mind she was still a teenager—

Yami slammed her against the wall, his fingers interweaving with hers and he pressed them to the side of her face, his hips pinning her into place. He drugged her with long, wet, sinful kisses that had her wanting to whine at the delicious pressure that seemed to graze her spine. She felt her brain spin with fog, she whimpered when he sucked the corner of her mouth, his teeth scraping the hypersensitive nerves there. His tongue slipped into her, coaxing her to move with him. She kissed him for all that he was worth, her teeth catching his lower lip and she bit down hard enough for his senses to flare hot-white. Like a curling iron that stung his skin, he released his hands to hook under her knees and lift her up, pressing her intimately against him.

Téa's fingers scraped his scalp, easing a strain he didn't know he had. He pressed her tightly against the wall, and with the deliberately stroke of his tongue—he consumed her. She felt him everywhere, in between her fingers, on her hips, in between her legs—he was like a black fire she couldn't extinguish. He was burning her so perfectly.

Ripping his mouth away from hers, he scraped his teeth down the curve of her neck. His mouth found the sensitive patch of skin, just above her clavicle and she squeaked when his teeth clamped around her skin and pulled her sweet-smelling flesh into his mouth.

"Pharaoh—don't leave ah, mark!" Téa all but writhed out, she was squirming, her head dizzy with the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him and she couldn't see—for her vision flickered between white and red. Her voice was clotty and she needed to _focus._

"I'll do whatever I please, love." He murmured, whispering kisses on the sides of her jaw, "You're so incredible. I am so very proud of you, Teana."

Téa smiled, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, before whispering, "Yeah, I'm very proud of you too. You're a pretty amazing king."

The Pharaoh gently pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and she just about closed hers when, when he smiled and somewhere along the lines of everything—she knew this wasn't a crush anymore.

* * *

When Téa opened her eyes she was in her room, in Kaiba's blimp. To her horror, she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She shouldn't feel bad, it was an amazing dream, but that was it.

 _It was just a dream._

Unceremoniously, she sat up and looked over at the clock with bleary eyes. She blinked. Nine-thirty? Breakfast was served at nine! She nearly fell out of the bed the way her blankets were curled between her feet. She ran towards the bathroom, brushed her teeth, emptied her bladder and threw on some clothes. She didn't bother with washing her face. Grabbing a nearby wipe, she cleaned her face while running a brush threw her hair. Thank the Gods' for travel-size lotion—she didn't want to look like she just arrived from death.

She slammed the door shut as she ran to the dining room. With white high-waisted jeans and a dark blue t-shirt—she looked like a paradox of emotions. With one side of her wanting to cry and mourn her dream—the other wanting to laugh and smile at the absolute warmth of it.

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Téa?" Joey snickered; he buttered his toast quite hastily, snagging the muffin on the opposite side of Tristan.

It took her a moment for the words to sink in and she chuckled at the irony. He had no _idea_ how true _that_ was, "Unfortunately."

Téa took the last empty seat and again, it was unfortunate that she had to sit next to _Yugi_ of all people. It was like the Gods were making a mockery out of her life. "Good morning, Téa."

"Morning, Yuge." She answered simply; she grabbed a plate of waffles and began to drown it in syrup.

"Are you okay?" He asked nervously at the amount of sugar she was drowning her cake in, "You seem conflicted."

As usual, Yugi was always on the dot.

"I'm fine. Just had a strange dream." She laughed brightly, and after all it was _true._

"Dream? Was it bad?" He asked tilting his head, his violet orbs wide and genuine.

Téa was torn between lying and telling her childhood friend the truth. She voted on the latter, "No, it was a wonderful dream."

She internally sighed—it was an _incredible_ dream.

It was perfect. Her life was perfect. She was married and she was happy—and it was everything she wanted in life—love, happiness, prosperity, wealth and peace.

Unhappily, she stuffed a piece of cake into her mouth and chewed in exasperation.

Yugi was confused, he asked with incredulity, "Then why do you look so miserable?"

Téa uncharacteristically whined, "Because I woke up!"

He laughed and everything was okay.

Mai Valentine had been staring at one of her female companions for a long time. She couldn't seem to pick up her jaw that was lodged onto the table, her amethyst orbs wide and _she could not understand._

So she shrieked, "Téa Gardner, what is that young lady?!"

She blinked, tilting her head, her eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

"On your neck!" Mai was almost hysterical, when she pointed at the brunette's throat.

Téa felt her neck as she spoke, "What are you talking about Mai? I think you and Joey need to stop hanging out, he's clearly—"

She paused when she felt a bump just above her collarbone. Her eyebrows were screwed together, what the hell—what—she didn't bruise—

Mai grabbed her compact mirror and threw towards the brunette almost frantically, Téa almost didn't catch the small tool, flipping the compact open, and she angled the mirror to where her bruise was—

She felt the air in her lungs disappear.

That was _not_ a bruise.

Blue eyes wider than dinner plates, she flushed red and she was speechless. How the hell did she acquire a hickey—she sure as hell wasn't with anyone—

Then it clicked. The Pharaoh—her husband and their makeout sessions—him on her neck and the heat—she had warned him not leave a mark and—

She felt an inexpressible emotion slide in her veins as she came to the realization.

 _Holy fuck. That was_ _ **not**_ _a dream._

* * *

 **AND THAT'S CHAPTER ONE.**

 **This fic is going to have a lot of smut. Yep.**

 **Please Review!**


	2. The Turmoil

**Blue Haze**

 **By: WhisperedSilvers**

 **Prompt: "Here in this dimension, you and I are meant to be."**

 **Summary: Sometimes it was hard to distinguish what was a dream and what was reality.**

 **X**

* * *

 **The Turmoil**

* * *

Téa didn't understand just _what the hell_ was happening. First of all, there was a hickey just above her collarbone, the size of the fingernail on her thumb, an angry red color and if she brushed the bruise she could still feel the tremors from his mouth.

 _This was really weird._

She looked at her reflection. The mirror looked colder and the person in the mirror didn't seem like her at all. Her skin was glowing, as if it were sun-kissed, but not dark as her husband's skin—which made her want to slam her head against the wall— _husband_.

She groaned.

Téa looked—she looked happy. Really happy. She didn't even need makeup—considering she literally rolled out of bed.

She looked—she couldn't describe it. It was like walking outside on a stormy day, with the clouds that were greying and that bright spark of lightening just glittering in the sky—and then the sun—bright and golden—the sun came out and made everything—everything look _good._

"I want every single detail. Do you hear me everything." Mai commanded when she entered the bathroom, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "But the first question is _who_?"

She couldn't lie to Mai.

She couldn't lie to herself.

And mostly, if she didn't talk to _anyone_ about this, it was guaranteed that she would go _insane_.

Téa sighed, "Okay it's a long story—know that I went to bed alone and woke up _alone_."

She scoffed, "Téa, do you really expect me to—."

"Just, just listen." She ran a hand threw her hair. "Okay so last night I was talking to Ishizu—"

Mai's jaw dropped, she screeched, " _Ishizu?!"_

The implications quickly made sense and she shook her head in an almost comical manner, "No, no—no! Gods, _no_! Ishizu gave me an anklet last night. It had the millennium eye on it."

The blonde swiftly composed herself, "Uh-huh."

"I went to bad with the anklet on and I had a…dream," She whispered the last part, her ears flushing.

Mai cocked an eyebrow, "What kind of dream?"

Téa coughed uncomfortably, her face hot and her eyes looking everywhere but her female friend, "Well, you see. I was in Egypt and I uh… woke up in the um…Pharaoh's bed."

The implications sunk into her mind instantly, with her eyes wide and her jaw hanging—Mai squealed, "Oh my God! What happened? Girl, leave nothing out!"

The brunette chuckled uneasily, "Well, when I woke up…I was freaked at first. I never had a dream of anything like that before. So naturally, I remembered that it was a dream and that I shouldn't feel embarrassed. He called me _love_ and Mai; I swear when he kissed me, it was like I was _made_ for him."

The blonde was jumping up and down, a grin painted on her face that made her cheeks hurt, and she inquired impatiently, "And, and?"

"Then we went to breakfast, I tried to hold off his… _persuasions_ , because well, I wanted to see the palace. So we went and get this—his Royal Court—half of them looked like us. There was Ishizu as Isis. Yugi's Grandpa as his vizier and freakin' Kaiba as his High Priest—it's like I _drank_ something before I went to bed!"

"Then?"

"Then we had a meeting with ruler of the lower level of Nubia. The cheapskate wanted us to pay full price for his oil, while he pays only half price for our resources—resources that were scarce in his country." Téa scoffed, before shaking her head and continued, "After that I demanded that we limit our oil and went ahead with herbs. Because medicine and the desert—hello! After that we kinda…kissed—okay, we technically did more than kissing, but the point is—" She pointed to the bruise on her neck, "This bruise was from the same place that the Pharaoh—did—you know!"

Mai blinked, her mind still trying to absorb the information that the brunette just released, "So it wasn't a dream—a memory maybe?"

Téa blinked, "A memory?"

She nodded, "Well, if what you're saying happened, and you can feel the after effects of what happened, then it's more like a memory—an actual you're-living-in-the-past memory. All of this happened after you were given the anklet, right? I mean—did he call you a different name?"

Something curled in her stomach, "Teana."

She snickered, "Not far from the truth, huh?"

"Mai!"

"What? If this was all because of the anklet Ishizu gave you, then you could help the Pharaoh. By giving him bits and pieces of past."

"But," Blue eyes widened, "I don't _want_ to tell him anything!"

"Why not?"

"Because," She blushed brightly, "He is quite ah… _affectionate._ "

Mai blinked and then she smirked, "You're going to get laid every night, aren't you?"

Téa's blush began to burn so bad, she actually had to throw water in her face, "It's embarrassing! And what if it isn't a memory, but some weird magic?"

Mai laughed, "You sound like Kaiba," She sobered up when she saw her scowl, "Well, when you go back to sleep, try and find some information—you know things he likes, things he does, maybe even his name!"

Téa thought about that for a moment, "Then we could confirm these dreams by applying the knowledge to him, without explicitly telling him!"

She nodded. "Exactly."

The brunette paled, "I'm going to suffer throughout this tournament, aren't I?"

Mai patted her shoulder sympathetically, "At least you're going to get some good ol' Pharaoh loving!"

She threw a towel at the blonde's face.

 **X**

Téa refused to act like anything had changed. _Nothing_ changed. That was the _problem._ Here, she was still thinking of her husband's touch, his words, his eyes and freaking _Yugi_ was sitting right next to her. Today was declared a free day, meaning they had a dull day to prepare for tomorrow's duel. It had gotten dark too quickly and she suddenly wished it was still dinner. That was beside the point—what the _hell_ was she supposed to do?

"Hey Téa," Yugi's voice broke her out of her thoughts; she snapped her head towards him.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? You've been kind a quiet," Yugi's worried eyes and his pursed lips had guilt churning her stomach—why did she feel guilty?

"Yeah, you've been out of it since Mai decided to kidnap you," Joey added in, his eyebrows screwed together, "What was that about?"

She blinked.

 _Um._

How the hell was she supposed to explain that?

 _Lie._

"Okay, well I kind of rolled out of bed and my neck hit the corner of the dresser that was next to my bed, thus creating the bruise by my neck." Téa explained quickly, she couldn't say it was a bug bite because they were in the freaking _sky_ and bugs can't fly _that_ high!

"And Mai ambushed you because?" Tristan trailed off.

She twitched, "She thought it was something more… _risqué"_

Yugi blinked, "Risqué?

Téa refused to explain anymore than she deemed necessary. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes, her mouth twisting into a pout. No, they would have to figure it out for themselves—she was _not_ going to explain _that._

She heard Tristan choke. Muffled whispers. Hacking and then Yugi coughed uncomfortably.

"Hey guys!" Serenity exclaimed from the door, walking in she took a seat next to Téa, whom welcomed the distraction. She was already dressed in her pajamas.

"Hey Serenity," Tristan greeted, his voice too sweet and his eyes too warm.

She smiled at him and was blissfully ignorant to his lovesick smile; she focused her gentle eyes on the other female in the room. She said, "Hey Téa, Mai said you wanted to talk to us girls about something."

Téa blinked.

"I did?"

"She said to keep it between girls because the guys wouldn't understand."

Téa sighed, great. Now she was going to have a _shrink,_ but inwardly, she agreed.

"What secrets are you keeping Serenity?" Joey asked suspiciously, his golden orbs flickering back and forth from Téa to his sister.

Téa interrupted before Serenity could start, "It's _girl_ stuff, Joey."

She emphasized the word girl and he flushed with embarrassment.

"Where's Duke?" Serenity suddenly asked, she looked across the room, and then back at Yugi.

"Duke went to take sleep. Kaiba has an arcade somewhere on the blimp; they're still working out the bugs in the machines." Yugi said yawning, "The Pharaoh thinks that I should follow suit and sleep as well."

Téa nearly flinched at the name.

"Does he _ever_ get nervous?" She grumbled mostly to herself, her eyes flickering over to see the dark purple skies.

Slightly surprised at her comment, the smaller boy replied, "Hardly. I mean he is a King for good reason."

"Kings can get nervous too," She retorted, she stretched her shoulders, standing up and Serenity followed her movements, "I mean, as you said he is a King. There has to be many things that worry a King."

Yugi shook his head, "If he gets nervous, he does a pretty good job of hiding it."

His eyes flashed crimson for a split-second, "The Pharaoh said not to worry about him, Téa."

Téa snorted, "He may have a been a King thousands of years ago, but right now, he's my friend. I can worry about who I want and he can't do _anything_ about it." She started to walk to the door, "I'll see you guys tomorrow, c'mon Serenity."

It wasn't a far walk and when both girls entered the room, Mai was already there waiting on the couch, which actually was a pull out bed. Pillows and sheets already made.

"Took you long enough," The blonde chastised, she shook her head. "Serenity and I are gonna crash here, we are gonna see if this anklet is some type of magic."

"Magic?" Serenity asked.

The brunette shook her head, "Alright I'm gonna explain. What I'm going to be saying is all true."

She nodded; she took a seat next to Mai.

"Last night Ishizu gave me an anklet. She said the anklet would be able to help me, help Yugi. See?" Téa held up her foot to show the glistening gold chain, lowering her leg down, she continued, "When I went to sleep last night, I had a dream about me living in Egypt. As Queen," She ignored Serenity's gasp, "And Serenity, the dream felt so real, I was married to the Pharaoh, and he was very…affectionate. Kaiba was the High Priest, Yugi's grandpa as the vizier and freaking Ishizu—Isis was there too."

She brushed the hair from her neck and pointed at the bruise, "This was the same place the Pharaoh did…this. The same place! I was alone in my room last night, and my door was locked! There is no way _anyone_ came in and did this to me. So yeah, that is what happened. Mai thinks it some sort of memory thing, because I had a different name in the dream. I mean it doesn't even make—"

"Now hold the phone Téa," Mai started off, "I said it could be a memory. If Yugi and the Pharaoh share very similar features, what makes you think you can't? But more than that, it was a theory to say at least. All you have to do is go back to sleep and if you have the same dream again—dig up some information."

Serenity nodded, "I mean it isn't a bad idea," She blushed, "Although I am bit surprised that the Pharaoh isn't so…level-headed, when it comes to you—"

Téa flushed.

"I mean you are his wife! So it would be natural. But if anything happens, Mai and I are right here." She paused and then squealed, "This is so _cute!_ What happens if you really are married to the Pharaoh?"

She stumbled, blinking rapidly, "I don't know."

Mai nodded her head enthusiastically, "Go change and go to bed. We are going to _observe_ you!"

Téa mumbled, before grabbing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and marching to the bathroom. Quickly slipping on her clothes, she looked at herself in the mirror.

"You're going to be fine." It was five words that should've built her confidence but instead, it made her more nervous.

When she walked out to the room, Mai and Serenity were already covered in the bed.

"Hurry up!" Mai hissed, "And take off the lights."

Téa rolled her eyes, flicking off her lamp, she settled into her bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin and blinked her blue eyes. There was no turning back now.

When her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep.

* * *

It was blackness. Dark, fuzzy blackness, like a fleecy blanket tucked into the confines of her mind. She felt so _warm_ , no, not warm—hot. Like the summer air, when it was sweltering, she felt her clothes stick to her and her mouth dry.

A warm pressure latched right beneath her collarbone and she sighed. The suction was hot and moist—

Her eyes snapped open.

Téa's vision was blurred with a head of dark hair and amethyst colored highlights that glimmered brightly underneath the beaming sunlight.

"Pharaoh?" Her voice cracked under her sleepy voice. She rubbed her eyes and he tilted his head up.

Burgundy orbs were warm, warmer than the sun and they looked at her wickedly. He whispered roughly, "Good morning."

"Morning," She gasped when he nipped the flesh of her collarbone, "What are you doing?"

The Pharaoh laughed, "Isn't it obvious?"

Her mind was spinning because then he kissed her. A long, wet, thorough kiss, that sent her nerves into a spiral, she weaved a hand threw wild locks and keened when he slid his hands up her dress. He drugged her with wet kisses, seducing her only with his taste as he quickly removed her dress, tugging the strings off her shoulders and yanking the fabric off of her body. With the fog that seemed to cloud her senses, she was barely even aware of her nude body that covered his silk sheets.

His hair was thick and silky, almost like rough velvet. Dexterous fingers began sliding up the curve her waist, rubbing the sides of her breasts, not quite touching, just a fleeting caress.

Téa finally grabbed her wits, she pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily as sapphire orbs glazed over, her lips were red and puffy—hypersensitive to touch, she choked out shakily, and "Don't you have a meeting?"

He responded by cupping her breasts, despite him being a king, his hands were rough, rough like a warrior's and they scratched her skin in a heavenly matter. He chuckled, like a tiger purring, "Today our morning is free— _I have you all to myself_."

The Pharaoh flicked thumb over rosebuds and she shuddered. Téa felt a flush begin to form. This was the first time a man had ever touched her. She wanted to shield herself away from him, but her limbs weren't working and she sighed when he repeated the motion again.

Even with being a teenager, she's had her fantasies, she's had her dreams—for it to really happen—it was completely overwhelming.

 _The Pharaoh was touching her._

His teeth grazed her cleavage and she squeaked at the sudden movement. His hands began to squeeze the twin mounds and his mouth explored contours.

"We shouldn't—" Téa's protest was cut off with a loud moan, his mouth engulfed her nipple, teeth scraping the sensitive flesh and his tongue soothing the bite marks. She felt heat curling in her stomach like a coil and her blood was searing in her veins.

Callous fingers were rubbing the neglected twin with careless twists and she was writhing onto the bed. Abruptly, he switched sides, the hot, suctioning pressure of his mouth sent her back arching, he was rough, not rough enough to hurt, but rough enough for her to grab onto him and hold on for her dear life.

He nipped her harshly and she thrashed under him.

"Shouldn't?" The Pharaoh questioned her mischievously as he released the mouthful of sweet-tasting flesh, his wine-colored orbs glinting with flecks of gold.

His fingers brushed her sex intimately and she felt a shiver wrack her spine.

No one had ever touched her like, like _this._

She felt an inkling of trepidation.

"—time. Don't have enough time," Téa swallowed when she felt hands rubbing her inner thighs, "We have to visit—" She whimpered when he brushed her center again, "The city today."

He kissed her stomach, across her ribs, down her hipbones and then he rested his cheek onto crease where her thighs and her pelvis meet. She flushed at how close he was to her sex.

"Are you going to deprive me, love?"

Téa couldn't _think_. He was so close to her, she could feel the fine stubble brush her skin and his lips brushed the crease of her inner thigh. She couldn't _breathe._ It was hot, far too hot and she needed air. So much air—foggy azure orbs couldn't see when he brushed his thumb lightly across her sensitive flesh; she whimpered.

"You're insatiable," She gasped when his other hand reached to tweak a rosebud and she arched her hips unintentionally, her nails digging into his scalp. She couldn't deny him. Never—she could _never_ say no to him. "What about the city?"

"Only for you," He pressed kisses onto her inner thighs, his finger ghosting over her throbbing flesh and he murmured into the crease of her pelvis, "Just want a taste."

Then his mouth was on her.

With a small scream she tightened her thighs around his head, and threw her head back. Her back arching, she was shivering uncontrollably; her fingers released his hair and fisted in the sheets. The Pharaoh was quicker, before she could crush his head, he grabbed her right thigh and tossed it over his broad shoulder, anchoring her in place, his other hand push her left knee closer the her hip and his head rested on her soft thigh.

He gave her lazy strokes, burning her languidly, he tilted her hips so she was angled closer to him and she cried out when he gave her sharp nip.

It was a sea of red because all she could see was him. He tasted her lethargically, like a sloth, wanting her to feel every inch of his rough tongue and she couldn't do _anything._

He immobilized her, forcing her to take everything and _feel_ everything.

The Pharaoh's mouth released the wet flesh and peppered kisses onto her inner thighs. A small, red bump appeared onto the corner of her opening and all she could think was— _not another one._

He was back again, his tongue gliding over the seam of her sex. She felt her eyes roll back when he suckled on her plump lips, he flicked his tongue over the small button and she jerked back as if shocked. Small bursts of sparks tingled her veins and her brain was numb with the way he brushed her intimately.

The Pharaoh would not compare her taste to something like flowers or something sweet, because she tasted raw, not contaminated, pure and delicate. She tasted like Teana.

His tongue dipped inside her for a moment, wriggling around her walls like a snake, drinking her, tasting her, scalding her with bright bursts of desire and then she felt a thumb press down on her small, sensitive nub—

It was too _much!_

She gasped; he was going to _kill_ her.

He pressed a small kiss onto her mound of Venus before gently, gingerly flicking her button with constant care, easing her hypersensitive flesh to take the stroke with stride, and she arched back.

Her sweat-slicked body was sticking to those Egyptian silk sheets of his and she bit into her forearm to cease her noises. With muted whimpers, she all but writhed into the bed, her head tossing side to side when she felt him latch onto her clit and _sucked._

" _Pharaoh!"_ She was breathing unevenly, she felt something trembling inside her and it threatened to burst. Like a grip, a hot grip in her stomach and she needed _more_.

Her husband seemed to hear her, because he lessened his assault on her quivering flesh, placing placid kisses onto her, his hands rubbing her thighs soothingly.

"Shhh, you can take it darling. Let go for me," Yami murmured, he burned kisses onto her smooth skin before taking the small nub again rubbed the small, protruding flesh with the course velvet of his tongue and shivers became more violent, and his teeth gnawed on the flesh—

Téa released a silent scream as she begun to convulse, spasming and soundless tears ran down her cheeks. She felt that grip on her—spiral out of control and she shivered. Her throat was raw, never had she experienced such tremendous brightness. She couldn't tell where those streaks begun and where it ended. The pleasure was overwhelming; mind numbing and she saw stars in the sunlight before she could finally breathe again.

He drank her essence greedily, wine-colored orbs burning brighter than the sun as he stared at her trembling, lithe figure. He brushed his lips down her most flesh, her flesh twitched and she groaned.

Yami scattered kisses up her torso, pausing to take rosebuds into his mouth, giving the cottony flesh a gentle suck before pressing a lingering kiss onto her mouth. She felt boneless, but so light she could fly.

She was breathing heavily, her mind spinning from the experience—shaking, she was still shaking.

"Good morning, Teana." Yami repeated, his eyelashes brushed her cheeks and his eyes were so warm, with gold flecks and he was smiling that crooked smile of his and she felt her heart flutter.

Sapphire orbs were dazed and she blinked. She was still tingling. She could taste herself on her mouth; she couldn't find the wits to blush as she was still trying to breathe.

Téa looked at him dubiously, she was barely coherent—just what.

 _Holy crap._

"You," She inhaled, "Are going to kill me one day," She replied breathily, she was still breathless as she tried to calm her heart back down.

He laughed and placed a kiss on her neck. "Really? You didn't sound like you were dying."

Téa flushed and squeaked, "So?"

A strange growl came from her stomach and she refused to look at her husband. He laughed again and pecked her stomach. The small gesture made her breath catch, "Hungry?"

She glared.

 **X**

It felt like noon with the way the servants were running around trying to prepare for lunch. Téa ate some grapes, some bread and a bit of water. They were going into the city today, she suggested that they go undercover, because if they went as they were they would never _really_ see anything.

Of course he objected, but there was a frown on her mouth and a hard look in her eyes, and then he caved.

They were both wearing white robes, but with a brown, rough, rag over them in the form of a hood. It hid their gold jewelry and their pristine clothing from the kingdom. Téa forced him to wear the hood, his hair would have been a given if they were to be caught.

"I don't understand why you don't have to wear a hood in this blasted heat," Her husband muttered irritably under the beaming sun.

"Pharaoh, _no one_ has hair like you. I, on the other hand, look _normal_." She replied dryly, squeaking when he slapped her rear, the Yami she knew would _never_ —never in his life would he _ever_ think of doing something like that to her. He would cut off his own hand first.

Her cheeks burned and she scowled at him.

He smirked.

"If you can't handle the heat, then stay out of the fire." Yami stated, brushing the hair from her face.

"If you can't take criticism, maybe _I_ should take your place as Pharaoh." Téa huffed walking away from him after burning the image of his surprised face in her mind. "And that comment does not help your case at all!"

He scoffed and she _really_ wanted to hit him.

Ancient Egypt was beautiful—completely different from the books, from the movies and from pictures. It was warm; it wasn't burning, it wasn't scalding hot, even though the city was in fact, in a desert of all places. Of course her robes and her rags made her skin much stickier and warmer than she was used to, but there was always that warm breeze that cooled her legs from the underneath of her light clothing.

The Egyptians heated the sand to form something like stone; this was used to make pathways and roads for the people. The sand surrounded the borders of the country. The shops were even better, people bargained, they used shells, coins, and other products to exchange. There were very few trees, in the city itself, maybe there were more on the outskirts—lush leaves were used as roofing for the shops, the houses and it was just so _different_ from the modern world.

It was sunny and the sky was clear, she smiled inwardly, this place was so _cool_!

"Miss would you like to acquire some bread, we have the finest and the freshest bakery in all of town!" A merchant called her from across the street; she smiled politely and walked towards some stalls.

"The harvest is bountiful this year," The Pharaoh remarked quietly, he eyed the strange looking vegetables on a cart and glanced at the bright greenery.

"Isn't that good? The people are not starving, and are those _cherries?_ " Téa gasped running to a stall, her husband hot on her trail.

By judging the way the stall-owner was dressed, with gold jewelry and silk robes, it was safe to assume that he was a merchant, and a _rich_ merchant too—because Egypt didn't cultivate cherries, they didn't have the necessary tools nor climate to grow such fruit.

"Would you like to purchase some, miss?" The merchant's smile was a bit too sharp and his eyes were a bit too green. He raked his eyes down her figure and she felt something like a shiver run down her spine. Yami's hand was placed on her back, his eyes hell-red glaring at the man with tightly constrained wrath.

 _How dare he lay eyes on his wife?_

The Pharaoh answered for her, "Yes, one parcel."

It took a few minutes, but the bag of cherries was nearly full and the five copper coins and two silver coins, a bit pricey for the cherries. They were from overseas if she remembered correctly, trade with the Roman Empire.

After the Pharaoh tossed the money to him rather carelessly, he grabbed the pouch and took their leave. Téa watched him almost comically plop a cherry in his mouth, the juicy fruit dribbling down the corner of his mouth, he looked so _pleased_ —she couldn't swallow the chuckle that was climbing up her mouth.

He looked at her, "What?"

"You're so… _greedy_."

He looked affronted, "I am not!"

She laughed, "You're practically inhaling the cherries."

He huffed before picking up the small fruit and placing it in her mouth, she chewed delicately, the juices running down her bottom lip and down her chin. She yelped trying to wipe the sticky liquid off her skin, the Pharaoh grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her back—his tongue darted out, licking the sugary substance up her chin and up her lower lip—sucking the small flesh hungrily before releasing the swollen lip with a soft plop.

"I _like_ cherries," He murmured, his nose nudging hers as he released his grip on her neck and pressed a kiss onto her forehead, "You should know that by now."

She blinked her eyes; she was still quite dazed from his swift yet small, public display of affection. She muttered, "I do know!"

"I also like almonds," The Pharaoh's wine-colored orbs flickered to another stand, "You used to put them in cakes when I was courting you," He paused, "You don't bake anymore."

Téa raised a brow, "I wasn't sure that you liked my cooking."

He stared at her, "I always tell you how excellent your culinary skills. Surly you would have taken the hint and continued baking for me."

She twitched at his deadpanned tone, " _Or_ ," She stressed the word before narrowing her eyebrows, "Or you were trying to spare my feelings and eat it without telling me outright that my cooking is atrocious."

He tilted his head innocently, "Love, are you trying tell me that you think I _lied_ to you?"

Téa may have not been around _this_ Pharaoh for a long time, but she sure as hell _knew_ to never trust that smile, and so she didn't answer.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to a muscled chest and she watched with wide azure eyes. He was so affectionate and warm that she had a hard time believing that this was the very same man who defeated Pegasus. His fingers brushed the left side of her face, "You know I would never lie to you, Teana."

She felt nervous. Like she was shaking from the inside out, she wanted to bite her lip and flush. She was becoming more and more flustered around him, and that was not the person she was. Perhaps it was because she kept comparing him to the Yami she knew and it was just going to give her whiplash—she swallowed her nerves before she responded.

"I know," Téa's voice was breathy she when patted his hand, "I trust you."

He pulled her hood over her head and then he smiled _that_ smile of his and she felt her heart stop.

There was a hurdle of noises; hooves clicking on the ground, muted growls and the slight jingle of metal was enough to pull her from her thoughts. The pharaoh grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a corner of one the stalls. Crouching low, Téa and her husband peeked from behind the wall.

"Who are they?" She murmured to herself questioningly, they didn't look like the natives that lived here, nor did they look like anyone from the palace. Their facial features were sharper, a pointed nose and stout, rounded legs and curved backs. They wore something heavier than cotton, wool maybe, but in this _heat_ —were they insane?

Or maybe it was metal—a soft metal, copper maybe? It was a burned brick red and it looked more like a smoked red pill rather than brown.

"You!" The man barked to a boy no less than the age of eight, he whimpered when he walked towards him, "Bring me all of your money and your gold."

The boy hesitated, but when he saw tears cloud his mother's eyes, he ran. It took him less than a minute, but he was back carrying a small chest of hard-earned riches.

He scoffed grabbing the box and shoving the boy to the ground and Téa's muscles tensed. How _dare_ that worthless piece of _trash_ put his hands on a _child_!

"What the _hell_ is going on?" The Pharaoh growled quietly behind her, he placed a hand on her shoulder and watched the scene with sharp eyes. Such things were not allowed in _his_ kingdom, he would strip such wickedness from the root of all sources—his people _will_ not be harmed.

"He's not Egyptian," She remarked quietly, "Look at his clothes. He is an outsider."

"An intruder?" It was a threatening rumble, faint and darker than the darkness that lurked inside his puzzle.

"And bring me your mother," He laughed crudely and the men on the horses followed his led and laughed as well, "Pick a woman, men—we shall be bedded tonight."

Téa nearly jumped out of her skin at the dark words, how she wanted to grab his _neck_ and _twist_ it until she heard the bones crack and his yellow eyes roll _back_ —she swallowed, this was _not_ her—she never would even _think_ of harming someone—

"Mom!" The little boy was crying, grabbing onto her arm as the brute animal was pulling her, "Please don't leave me!"

The sound of a whip, cutting the air, slapping skin and high cry made her eyes burn. He whipped the boy. He _whipped_ a child—he actually—

"Beat it mongrel, before I get angry and decide to introduce you to my sword," He spat the child, saliva dripping off his face. His hand tightened around the woman's hand and he yanked her towards the horse. She was crying.

The boy, with eyes greener than grass, with tears in his eyes blazed fire, "The Pharaoh won't let you get away with this!"

The solider laughed, throwing his head back with mirth, "Don't make me laugh boy," He hissed, "Your precious king doesn't even _know_ what is going on—he's too busy with his queen—I wonder how it feels to bed such a whore like that—every night."

The hand on Téa's shoulder tightened and she knew it was taking every ounce of his self-control to not run into the middle of the square and _destroy_ him.

"The Pharaoh is a great person!" The boy cried and again, the man grabbed the whip again and Téa was moving before she was even conscious of doing so.

Téa moved fast, as the whip was just about to slam onto the boy's arm; she grabbed the leather cord, thus causing the whip to come to a stop. Internally hissing at the sting of the whip, she felt tears prick her eyes and a headache from between her left eyelid and temple, but she refused—she refused to even show the slightest _hint_ of fear, of pain towards this _creature._

Her hand was warm and was that blood? Yes, that was blood dripping down her hand. The villagers looked at her with obvious shock, the people had gone quiet, watching the brave, young woman defend the little child and his mother, who looked more grateful than terrified.

"Don't you _dare_ ," She hissed, her eyes blazing sapphires, "Lay a hand on this boy or any of the other villagers, or you will be dealing with _me._ "

The man was stupefied at the audacity of a mere _woman_ , who not only stopped the blow of a whip, but also blatantly _threatened_ him. Egg-colored orbs narrowed with irritation, almost sensing his next move, she wringed her hand around the whip, like a bracelet, the leather nipping at her skin—he couldn't move it and because he couldn't move it, he couldn't _hit_ her.

"The _fuck_ do you think you're doing, you wench." He growled, saliva coating her face and she did not cringe, "Step back before I—"

The wind blew and the hood that she had been wearing fell back, revealing soft, wavy brown hair and the small gold crown that decorated her thick locks, he blinked almost as if he was struck by lightening, "The Queen, how—?"

Loud murmurs from the villagers began to circle the area, some of them were bowing, others were staring and some were even crying.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, she yanked the whip that was wounded around her wrist and the hold he had on the whip fell to the ground. She pulled; the handle flying towards her feet, picking it up she held it in her hand. "That's right. I _am_ the Queen and I refuse to sit back and watch an innocent child get hurt—these are _my_ people, if you have a problem, you take it up with _me_ ," She glared, and spoke with venom, "You do _not_ touch my people. Unlike my husband, I am _not_ merciful to those who harm anyone that I care about."

The little boy behind her whimpered before bowing, "I apologize your highness, I—"

Téa quieted his sobs with a pat on the head from her free arm; she ran her fingers threw his dark locks before gently speaking to him with soft eyes, "Hush now. I'll take care of it. You are going to be just fine, just stay behind me, okay?"

His wide green eyes were shining with unshed tears, with a obedient nod, his fingers fisted in the back of her dress, he hid behind her taller stature and his head brushing the back of her legs.

She turned her back to face the man and in the back of her mind, she wondered, where in the world is her husband—for a second it startled. She accepted him as her husband without even knowingly thinking of the oddity of the situation. It was going to get dangerous—she didn't need a warning sign or even someone to slap her silly for her to know that, _things_ were going to get _dangerous._

The man seemed to break out of his shock with a shake of his head; the men behind him watched the scenario curiously. He had copper-colored hair, it bordered on the color of dried blood and dark cobblestone.

He grabbed the hilt of his sword and unsheathed his tool, the metal glinting white in the sunlight. He cocked his head to the side, a snarl curling onto his lips, "I don't care if you are the damn Queen—you're husband isn't here to protect you," A grin stretched onto his lips, "Which means," He licked his lips and she felt damp dread curl in her stomach as he looked at her with deadly yellow eyes, "I have you all to myself—"

Suddenly he was screaming, his hands grasping his head—his pupils swallowed his iris and he was sweating profusely. Téa cringed at the high, shrill voice—it was ringing her ears. It was as if he was swaying into one direction, so she turned her head back to see the Ancient Sorcerer, with his hand out and her husband behind him.

His hood was down, exposing his dark, wild hair and his eyes were blazing fire. It was hell-red and his jaw tightened.

 _White Mystic Blast!_

The Pharaoh was shattering him from the inside out. Something like his mind crush and something _not_ like it. But it was forcing the electric currents in his brain to short wire—the veins in the man's head pulsed and he was on the floor shrieking.

Yami wasn't a violent person—he detested violence. He knew of Teana's strong sense of justice and her irrational awareness of hope—when she broke from his hold and walked into the town square, with her head held high and not a shred of fear in her eyes—he felt something like anxiety leap into his throat.

She walked bravely, grabbing the whip with her hand, blood dripping down her forearm, he had to stop himself from running towards her—the sheer terror and _worry_ that clouded his mind was almost overwhelming. It was like his stomach dropped to his knees.

He had to resist the urge to slaughter the man in front of him. He had to root himself to the ground and _watch_. Because this wasn't a one-time thing—this conflict was happening multiple times and it _pissed_ him off. These were _his_ people and if he was ignorant to such matters it would lead towards chaos. But then the _bastard_ had the audacity to laugh and then rake his eyes down the length of his wife—with snake-like yellow eyes and the suggestive quirk of his mouth—his rage couldn't even compare to those of malice—he didn't even hesitate when he summoned Ancient Sorcerer on his Dia Dhank.

The little boy behind her was trembling and she grabbed his hand with her uninjured one.

The man stopped shrieking, seeing that he was still breathing—knocked out. Out of consciousness and out of his hair, for now.

The Pharaoh flickered his eyes to the rest of his lackeys. Immediately the man began to flee, their hands yanked on the straps of the horses—

" _Oh no, you don't!"_ Téa hissed, her hand flicked up and she tightened the handle of the whip and as if it were ribbons from her dance class, she curled the whip around the legs of the horse and she pulled. The small constraint from the caused the hooves to collide with each other, the horse tripped onto the ground and she was yanked forward at the weight of the horse—she hissed as the handle cut into her wound, more blood dripped onto the ground.

But she has a witness and that is all that matters. The other soldiers may have fled but he's here on the ground and there was no way in hell he was going to escape.

"Teana," The Pharaoh called out, he walked briskly towards her, he yanked the whip away from her and looked at her abused his hand with a displeased hiss. His eyes flickered to the unknown solider that was scrambling to get up and run. His pointer finger drew a hieroglyphic in the air and the word coming to life, glittering in gold and he mustered, "Swords of Revealing Light!"

Six rods of beaming brightness fenced the solider into a prison—he couldn't leave.

Yami grabbed Téa's hand and stared at the stinging flesh with a grimace, he swore, "I need to get you to the healers, this wound can worsen."

She shook her head, "Not now, we need to help the villagers—"

He was glaring at her with burgundy colored orbs, his voice was a muted growl and she nearly winced at the hostility. He was holding back his rage and his temper—but she couldn't leave yet! "Do not fight me on this, you need to be healed—"

She hissed, blue eyes darker than the storms in the ocean, "Not now! My people need me!"

He scowled, but he would argue with her, because she was right. He looked around; the villagers were ashen and frightened. Information, he needed information. But right now he needed to help his wife. Yami ripped a piece of his, tough, thick rag and wrapped it around her hand; he tied the knot tightly and ignored her wince, because it gave him a small pang in his chest for causing her such pain.

"There. It should stop the bleeding." He breathed, he felt fingers brush the side of his face, her eyes were gentle, but her mouth pressed into a firm line.

Téa turned her attention the child that was hovering behind her left knee. She crouched down and grabbed his shoulders gingerly, "Hey, what's your name."

He sniffled, his lower lip raw with teeth marks, he whispered, "Ahu."

"Well Ahu," Téa began, she looked at him with clear blue eyes, and "Do you mind if I look at your injury?"

He stiffened.

"I won't hurt you, promise."

He nearly recoiled in shock, "I know you won't hurt me your highness," He paused hesitantly, "I just didn't think it was important enough."

She poked his forehead, "Don't be silly. Everyone is important."

He nodded shyly, before turning around presenting his back to her. She inhaled sharply; the lash was across his back, an inch thick and a foot long. Her teeth grinded and she regretted not slapping the man with the whip. The flesh was raw, blood dried onto his upper back and it began to scab yellow and brown. Infection and it was getting worse.

Her heart was twisting and she wanted to cry. She spun him around slowly; his green eyes were dazed and dilated. She knew that look, she knew it—it was something she was used to doing. The feeling of being strong for someone else, to be fearless and to smile and carry on like _nothing_ was wrong—to be burden with responsibilities.

This boy was so _strong._

"Come here," Téa hooked her hands under his arms, she ignored the flaring pain in her right hand and she held him in her arms. He stiffened again. One hand under his rear and the other behind his neck—she didn't want to put any pressure on his wound—didn't want to hurt him anymore than he was, "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay."

With great hesitance Ahu let his head drop into the crook of her neck and she felt hot tears drench the side of her neck. She swallowed thickly and ran her fingers threw his dark, raven locks. Standing up she held him closer to him. The villagers were whispering and she felt her husband's hand graze her back.

She turned her head to face him. The Pharaoh's eyes were warm, rich wine and with flecks of gold. His heart leaped at the sight of her holding a child. His lips curling into a small smile and his knuckles ran up her spine lovingly—but when his eyes locked onto Ahu's wound he felt something quiver inside him.

A child.

An innocent child—whipped.

 _Unacceptable._

 _There will be repercussions._

Téa was approaching the child's mother slowly, she walked with soft steps and suddenly she was standing in front of the woman. "Excuse me, are you Ahu's mother?"

She nodded weakly.

"Are you alright? Did they harm you in anyway?" She grabbed her hand after releasing her grip on the back of the boy's neck and helped her stand up and she swayed.

"Mother has been sick for a long time," The boy whispered in Téa's ear, something in her chest squeezed.

Téa ran her hands threw his hair again. She turned her head to face the Pharaoh whom just finished interrogating the villagers. "They are going to the palace. I want the healers to take a look at them."

It was a demand not a question.

Yami nodded, "Of course," He paused before looking at the man that was currently bound by the spell, "I shall have the guards hold him in custody," His eyes darkened, "I will deal with him later," He paused again to look at the heavily breathing boy and the pinched expression his wife's face, "Right now, we have other things to take care of.

* * *

"Ow, ow, ow, holy—OW!" Téa cursed loudly when the alcohol burnt her flesh, she swore she saw _smoke_ erupt from her wound.

The Pharaoh was trying to be as gentle as possible. He dabbed the injury with soft strokes, the alcohol stinging her nerves with fire, he spoke softly, and "Sorry, but you will have to bear with it, dear."

She whined when he rubbed a raw vein that stuck out like tree bark, "Then put the whole damn thing at once and get it over with!"

He hesitated before grabbing her wrist and shoving it into the bucket of alcohol, she shrieked and squirmed, but his grip was tight, "Okay, okay, okay—OKAY, it's a bad idea—now _stop,_ " A tear fell from her eye, "Dammit, _let go_!"

"Just one more minute—"

"PHARAOH!"

He yanked her hand out of the bucket and began to blow on the stinging flesh. She was whimpering and she tried to break free from his grasp, but it significantly tightened.

"Hurry up and put the salve on," She gasped; her hand was on fire. She didn't have to see it—it was on _fire._

"I have to dry it!"

"I don't care! It HURTS!" She shrieked, he sighed grabbing the salve on the spoon and began spreading it on her charred flesh. Immediately she sighed as the cooling sensation began to numb her nerves.

"Better?"

Téa nodded.

The Pharaoh began to bandage her hand, wrapping it tightly with the papyrus cloth and she sighed again, relieved that it was over. He placed the medical kit on the table beside him and wiped the stray tears on her cheeks.

He placed his hands on her cheeks and looked at her seriously, sternly he said, "You need to rest. You lost a lot of blood."

She looked at him warily, "I want to see Ahu before I got to sleep."

He sighed again, his eyes exasperated, "Teana—"

"He's probably scared and alone! I can't leave him!"

The Pharaoh looked at her with mild frustration. She was far too gentle for her own good. Despite her kind nature and her fierce desire to protective—she was absolutely clueless to her own safety. She was so devoted to her people and goodness that he couldn't help but appease to her demands. He was wrapped so tightly around her finger that he could never, ever leave.

"Five minutes," The Pharaoh groaned, "Five minutes and that straight to bed."

Téa grinned and pecked him on the cheek. She stood up so quickly that the world spun for a few seconds, her husband was there grabbing her arm, anchoring her to him. "Teana, are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," She squeaked.

He allowed his head to drop onto her shoulder, his voice was muffled, and "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

She laughed airily, unable to think of a reply.

It was a quick walk to Ahu's room; he was sitting on the bed with bandages tightly banded across his chest and upper back. His knees tucked under his chest and his head pressed against his knees.

"Ahu," Téa called.

He turned his head to face her, for a child's face, he looked remarkably old. But his eyes lit up when he saw her and the Pharaoh, as if he were going to kneel and greet them—Téa grabbed his shoulders and forced him to lay down. She sat on the side of the bed

"You don't need to bow to me, Ahu," She said, "How are you feeling."

His dark hair covered the white sheets and blinked slowly, "Better. I haven't seen mother, yet."

Téa looked at the Pharaoh.

He shook his head, "She is still with the healers."

Ahu swallowed thickly, "Maybe they can make her better. She is always so sick."

Téa's heart tightened, for a little boy, he seemed to grow up fast. "What about your father?"

He stiffened, tears began to pool in his jade orbs, "They took him away months ago."

The Pharaoh sat on his bed next to his wife, he asked quietly, "Who?"

"The soldiers," He choked, "They come every week and take the men and women in the village."

"Do you know why?" She inquired, as her hand brushed his forehead. She grimaced, a fever—he was getting sick.

He shook his head.

Téa inhaled shakily, smiling faintly, "It's okay. We'll deal with the soldiers. You get some rest okay? You will be alright, I promise."

Ahu looked at her with wide sage green orbs, "Really?"

He sounded hopeful and it made her tear ducts sting. _No one_ should ever have to suffer like this child—she would make sure of it.

"Really."

She hesitated when she leaned down, closing her eyes; she placed a kiss onto his forehead. She could feel Ahu's eyebrows raise and his cheeks warm. The Pharaoh's hand on her back, warming her right threw her clothing.

 **X**

When Téa opened her eyes she was back on the blimp. Mai and Serenity looking at her with expectant eyes.

Mai with her pink lips asked, "Well?"

Téa lifted her right hand to show them the scar of the whip. Both girls gasped staring at the wound with shock.

Téa remarked dryly, "Apparently, this is _not_ a dream."

* * *

 **A PLOT!**

 **Can anyone guess what Ahu is or what is his role in the story? I gave a couple of hints.**

 **Ahu: The setting sun.**

 **Please Review!**


	3. The Comprehension

**Blue Haze**

 **By: WhisperedSilvers**

 **Prompt: "Here in this dimension, you and I are meant to be."**

 **Summary: Sometimes it was hard to distinguish what was a dream and what was reality. Battle-City Arc. —Yami/Téa — Teana/Atem**

 **X**

* * *

 **The Comprehension**

* * *

Téa had to borrow one of Mai's gloves to cover the wound on her palm. It was black, fingerless, stretchy leather, and it rubbed uncomfortably at the thick gauze on her hand. It didn't look all that bad with red shorts and a black tank top—she kind of looked like Yugi.

After Odion's duel with Joey, they were allowed one day of rest—according to one of Kaiba's legal workers. It was a mandatory law abiding by the media's declaration for worldwide broadcast—it didn't matter how much Kaiba was paying them, but the principle of the matter for those who work for him.

She decided to take matters into her own hands and experiment—discreetly of course. She found the kitchen where the present chefs were absent. Téa nodded to herself, she started to raid the cabinets—looking for specific ingredients, and she had to think—if she were in Egypt, at this very moment, what would she have in the kitchen?

She needed almond flour and cherries.

If she thought logically, she could crush the almonds into flour and the cherries were ripe for the picking. It was only a matter of putting things together. There was almond flour on the lower rack of the cabinet and cherries in the fridge.

Eggs, milk, butter, and cinnamon—she frowned, could she use cinnamon? Cinnamon was offered to temples… she could use it in her cake? She shrugged, if cinnamon was available, she most likely did use it—she didn't bother to ponder on the fact. This was an _experiment._

Sugar, from sugar cane and perhaps some vanilla, they were bound to use vanilla with trade and just a touch of salt.

Téa paused; she needed baking powder.

She pinched the bridge of her nose—she may not know if they have vanilla in Egypt, but she sure as hell _knows_ that there _isn't_ any damn baking powder in Egypt.

Téa grabbed her bag from the corner of the table, unzipped it and pulled out her laptop. Pressing the power button, she waited a few seconds before she slammed her finger down on the mouse track that hovered over the Internet icon. Quickly, she typed in… _substitute for baking powder_ , and the results came up as…lemon juice, vinegar—

Egyptians used vinegar when baking their bread.

She sighed, thank the Gods for the Internet.

Pre-heating the oven to three-seventy-five, she cracks a couple eggs in her mixing bowl—she can't find the damn electric mixer, she'll have to make it without it—a dash of vanilla extract, a cup of milk, a fourth of a cup of melted butter, a couple drops of vinegar and whisk.

"This better turn out good." Téa sighed; the wet ingredients were mixing, dissolving slowly. After the mixture was incorporated neatly, she set it aside.

Four coups of almond flour, a teaspoon of cinnamon, two cups of cane sugar and a pinch of salt, she grabbed a dry spoon and mixed the dry ingredients. Grabbing the wet bowl, she slowly poured the concoction into the dry bowl.

She grabbed two identical, thick cake pans and buttered them. Nodding to herself, she poured the batter into each pan, eyeing each to make sure that they were even.

"Alright, bake for… forty-five minutes." Téa said aloud; she placed the pans into the double oven of Kaiba's ridiculously opulent stove, "Now, whipped cream."

She knew from experience, her mother that whipped cream is just heavy cream mixed with sugar and well, whipped. Heavy cream is one fourth of butter and three fourth's of milk—and maybe a bit of flour. But Téa decided to cheat a bit and just use heavy cream from a box, rather than making it.

She grabbed the bottle of heavy cream from the fridge and the cane sugar she was previously using. Sighing at the mess she made, she ended up placing her dirty dishes in the sink to make room for the next part of her cake. Wiping the excess flour, and liquid from the cake that splattered onto the counter. She moved the box of heavy cream and cane sugar to the center.

Grabbing the jar of cherries, she drained half of the jar in a strainer and placed them in a small bowl.

Téa scooped five large cups of heavy cream into a bowl, narrowing her eyebrows when the cream refused to leave the spoon. Using her finger, she slid the last scoop of cream into the bowl and grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer.

"Wow! Something smells good!" Joey exclaimed making her drop the spoon she was holding, she turned her head to see Joey and Tristan sitting on the stools of the kitchen, Yugi slowly walking behind him.

Dryly she replied, "I would hope so."

"What are you making?" Tristan asked eyeing the cream with unmuted delight.

"Cake."

"I didn't know you could cook, Téa."

 _That_ wasn't Yugi's voice—blue eyes flickered to the boy with tri-colored hair, there was no doubt, with that ever-so-curious glint in his eyes, and that strong jaw—with wild hair—that was _not_ Yugi.

"There are lots of things you guys don't know," Téa coughed to avoid laughing at her inside joke. She turned her attention to her bowl, grabbing a clean whisk she began to slowly mix the mixture, slowly pouring the cane sugar—the liquid thickening.

This was the first time she was speaking to the Pharaoh since her dreams started, she was trying hard, so hard not to think of the dream she had awoken from this morning, she tried not think about how she felt leaving the bed—dripping with sweat and her shorts and underwear soaked. Instead she tried to picture Kaiba wearing Joey's clothes and Joey wearing Kaiba's clothes.

She didn't want to ignore the Pharaoh—

"Whipped cream!" Joey was practically salivating, "Wait—did I miss anyone's birthday?"

Leave it to Joey to question _why_ she was baking a cake.

"I'm making a cake, because I _want_ to make a cake."

"Oh."

"Plus," Téa smiled, "I thought you guys deserved a treat for saving the world and stuff."

"Aw, does Téa have a crush on me?" Tristan cooed, ducking when she threw a fist of sugar at him. He laughed when the sugar splattered onto Joey instead, "No need to get violent!"

"Why am I surrounded by idiots?" Téa mused aloud; her tone was annoyed and amused, a smile betraying her tone.

"That hurts Téa," The blonde whimpered, "Right in the heart."

"Téa, isn't that Mai's glove?" Yami asked, his eyes lowering on the black, stretchy leather, that was currently holding the cup of sugar, her other hand holding the whisk and mixing the concoction.

Téa blinked, she tried to rake her brain for an answer, "Uh… yeah, Mai said to hold on to it for today. Plus I thought it would look good with my…shirt. Yeah!"

The Pharaoh looked at her blankly. He was eyeing her strangely, he knew that there was something bothering her, because she wouldn't look at him in the eye and her answer was awkwardly said, but Yami knew that Téa wouldn't lie to him—so he waved off the odd pull in his stomach.

The timer on the clock went off.

Téa turned around, grabbing the oven mitts; she opened the oven placing the two layers of cake on the cooling rack. Closing the oven, she grabbed a toothpick from the draw. The soft aroma of almonds, vanilla and sugar wafted through the air.

Joey groaned longingly, he flickered his eyes from the cake to his empty plate, "I don't think I can wait much longer."

She glared, "Don't. Touch." She turned to look at Yugi—Yami, her eyes focused onto a point on his shoulder, "I'm leaving you in charge of them, I'm going to prepare the topping."

He nodded, still not liking the fact that she wasn't looking at him.

Téa grabbed the handle of the cherries that were draining in the small bowl and proceeded to rinse them. She placed them in a bowl and set them aside. As soon as she finished whipping the cream, the cakes had cooled.

Tea picked up a cake and placed it on a glass stand, she used a baking spatula and smeared the whip cream onto the first layer. The cream layering over like waves, she placed extra cream on top and placed the last cake over it.

After fully drenching the dessert in cream, she placed the cherries on the cake's borders, and the edges.

"Ta-dah!" Téa smiled, "All done."

Tristan grabbed his fork and plate.

"Can we eat it now?" Joey asked miserably, his eyes were warm and pleading.

She sighed, "Fine. Let me cut you guys a slice."

It took only a few seconds, but she managed to cut three to four slices of cake and placed them into their plates. After grabbing her fork, she watched them, with exasperated amusement; shovel the piece of confectionary into their mouths.

"Téa," The blonde groaned, his mouth full. She could see the whip cream stick to his fine stubble, "I could kiss you right now."

Téa wrinkled her nose, "Please don't."

It was like she had a sixth sense for the Spirit of the millennium puzzle, because she could tell when he was apprehensive or uncomfortable. She turned her head to look at him, his fork was touching the soft sponge cake apprehensively, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Is there something wrong with the cake, Pharaoh?"

It was odd to call him that—she hasn't said that title, well name, in a couple days.

Yami looked up at her quickly, albeit a bit startled, burgundy orbs blinked before they clouded over with weariness, "I just," he paused trying to put his thoughts into words, "I am not very fond of sweets."

Téa almost scowled, her insufferable husband in her delusion of a dream basically implies that she doesn't cook anymore for him, and now when she does bake her real-life _friend_ is basically pushing around her confection like it was poisoned—if he didn't eat it, she wouldn't be able to put the pieces of her hallucination together.

"Pharaoh, I _slaved_ over that oven to make that cake for my friends and you will eat it, and you will _like_ it." She warned and her blue eyes glinted dangerously.

The Pharaoh's eyes widened fractionally, he wasn't used to seeing Téa act so, so—he couldn't put his figure on it, but the look in her eye spelt trouble if he didn't heed to her subtly implied demand. He responded quietly, nodding to himself, "Very well."

Yami placed a piece of cake that had a sliver of whipped cream, placed it in his mouth dutifully, and closed his eyes as he chewed. Téa watched the scene with anxiety and rapt fascination.

When the Pharaoh opened his eyes—Téa felt her breathing stop and something in her stomach lurch dangerously. His eyes were hot, branding and burnt wine-color and glittered hungrily. It was dark and sinful, with flecks of gold and it reeked of masculine satisfaction—she nearly dropped her fork, because she's seen that look before, it was the same look he gave her in the beginning of her dream. With his pink lips curled into a carnal smile—it was _lust._ Desire.

It was the same look he gave her when he bought his parcel of cherries and bit her lip—

"This tastes exquisite Téa, thank you." Yami praised, he placed his cherry on his fork, his eyes a bit more hazy, he murmured to himself, but she heard it, "I feel like I've had this before."

He slipped the cherry in his mouth, a bit of liquid dribbled down his lips—he licked the corner of his mouth just as he had earlier.

 _Right there._

"Are you sure you like it? You don't have to spare my feelings."

 _Take the bait._

Yami looked mildly shocked, "Do you think that I'm lying to you."

She placed her hands up defensively, "You said it, not me!"

"You know I would never lie to you, Téa."

This time, she really _did_ drop the fork.

That confirmed it—it did, no matter how small the matter may be—

 _It was the same line he told me earlier!_

She swallowed thickly, "I—I know. I trust you."

And then the Pharaoh smiled that _smile_ of his—she was _screwed._ Because this happened earlier—this very damned _scene_ was replaying in front of her—it was real.

 _Help—she needed help._

Mai—she needed to talk to Mai.

* * *

Technically, it wasn't a lie; she didn't exactly have time to talk to Mai, because as soon as she left the kitchen, it was time for sleep. The day had gone by fast, she thought. Because as soon as the dishes were in the dishwasher it was time to go to bed—on her way to her bedroom, she noticed that Bakura's door was wide open.

Curiously she peeked through the crack in the door, the bed lay messy and unkempt.

She blinked.

It was nearly eleven in the night.

Where the _hell_ could he have gone?

She was positive that all bedrooms had an indoor bathroom. She shouldn't have been concerned, she shouldn't be, but the sinking feeling in her stomach hadn't been lifted, it just got worse.

 _Marik_ had also been acting strange. She narrowed her eyes, _too strange._ Ishizu, she hasn't seen Ishizu in a while either. It was _too_ weird, too strange—something was wrong. She groaned internally, she knew she was going to regret this. She ran to Yugi's room.

"Hey Yuge? Yugi!" Téa knocked on his door, her eyebrow twitching with every small snore she could hear, "Yugi! Wake up!"

There was a thud, a couple of disgruntled groans and soft creaks indicating he was slowly walking towards the door. The door opened and Yugi blearily rubbed his eyes, "T-Téa what is it?"

"Yugi, Bakura is missing!"

"What?" Yugi was wide-awake now, he grabbed his jacket and closed his door, and "What do you mean he's missing?"

"I was just in Bakura's room—"

"Wait—why were _you_ in Bakura's room?"

"Focus Yugi!" Téa glared, "I've been getting this bad vibe of something dark, something bad is happening."

It's been only a couple days, but she's been able to sense even the slightest pressure of magic, dark power and even things that seemed a bit abnormal. Of course she's convinced herself that she's been going crazy since she's met the Pharaoh—but it was like niggling feeling growing in the back of her skull.

He frowned "Dark?"

They searched the empty rooms, the kitchens, the gaming rooms—any place where Bakura may have walked into, but all were seemingly empty. It was nearing midnight; everyone was _supposed_ to be asleep, thus proving the hallways silent.

"I don't get it Yugi, we've searched the everywhere and there's no Bakura anywhere. I mean even on a blimp as big as this one—he _couldn't_ just disappear."

Yugi blinked as if he found something, he questioned hesitantly, "You don't think Marik's behind this, do you?"

She blinked, "I had a feeling, but I mean the guy has been acting weird—"

"The Stratos Arena is the only place we haven't checked," Yugi pulled her into the arena, "If they aren't _inside_ the blimp they must be somewhere on the outside!"

When the doors opened, there was a thick, black swirl of fog clouding the middle in a vortex. It was heavy with darkness, weighing in on the feelings of Téa brain—draining. It was like it's draining the energy out of her, she shouldn't be surprised. She's been to ancient Egypt for a couple days now; her senses would be heightened to those of magic.

But it was like a pressure that was clawing into the confines of her mind, burning the backs of her eyes and she needed to breathe.

"Yugi, all that fog, it looks like—"

"A shadow game! Marik must be dueling Bakura in there."

Téa's mind came to a complete halt, "Bakura's in a shadow…game?"

"If Bakura loses this duel, he will be trapped in the shadow realm." That was _not_ Yugi's voice that answered her unneeded question.

Her eyebrow twitched. She hadn't expected to talk to the Pharaoh—alone. The flashes of her times in Egypt made her heart flip, it's not—the Pharaoh in her time was _not_ the Pharaoh in her dream. That much she knew. However, hearing the mere voice of him in this world was enough to send her into turmoil.

Because he was so much more merciful and humble here with Yugi, than he was in Egypt—in Egypt he was a true king and he made sure people _knew_ that—his eyes were hell-red there.

"This is dangerous Téa and enough people have gotten hurt already. So please get back downstairs." His words were quiet but there was a small plea in his tone.

Téa very nearly glared at him. Her hand that had a whip-lash, was burning, weighing her down. She had a _whip_ mark—there wasn't _anything_ she was scared of, right now, at least. Not even an _idiotic_ shadow game would have _her_ cowering in the corner or have her hiding underneath seeking safety—her bravery wasn't something foolish.

"I'm _sorry_ ," She replied back with vehemence, "But there is no way I'm leaving you up here, Pharaoh. Have you forgotten the promise I made? I was with you the day you found out about your past _and_ your destiny—I told you I would do anything I could to help you!"

The last sentence she spouted and her doubling back in her mind.

 _What about her destiny? Her fate? Was she even from this time period?_

These were questions she hasn't even begun to ask herself.

"But Téa—"

"But nothing! I'm going to help you and that's final!" Téa had enough of being protected—she _had_ it.

Yami was silent.

"I must put an end to Marik's evil plans."

She understood, "You will."

He sighed with a heaviness that burdened his bones, "You make it sound so easy, Téa. But he seems to get stronger and stronger with each duel, and even more evil. I believe that the darker Marik becomes, the harder it will be to shield the world from his wrath. He's begun to target my friends because of a grudge he holds against me. We must stop him, before anyone else falls victim into his insanity."

"I know."

—

Marik was beyond the point of annoyed. His battle with Bakura was getting even more ridiculous; the full power of his millennium rod wasn't exactly working. There was a jammer. Something was blocking the full point of his power; it was like there was something suppressing the dark magic that dwelled within his artifact. It was annoying to say at least. Bakura seemed more insane than he was, the grin on his face was maniacal, and the good Marik was attached to him like glue.

"—am the darkness!" Bakura laughed, his eyes widening and shrinking.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marik questioned, his eyes narrowed. What did he mean? His life meter had reached zero, he shouldn't be so… _confident._

"It means, foolish mortal," His grin twisted, "I cannot be destroyed! You haven't seen the last of me!"

His millennium ring dropped to the floor with a small clang.

 _Listen to me, Téa!_

Téa grabbed her head and grunted.

The Pharaoh looked alarmed, "Téa?"

 _Part of me still exists within you—_

A headache formed beneath her left eyelid, it was pulsing, thrumming like a drum. It was like someone was trying to takeover her conscience, a voice—a familiar voice. She couldn't breathe; it was like a living being—Marik? No, it couldn't be—he was still in the darkness on the playing field. But it sounded just like him. Another pang that ran down her right arm—stinging her wound that was embedded deep in her hand.

It wasn't dark and dangerous, but it was light and suffocating.

She choked aloud.

"Téa! What's wrong? Answer me!" The Pharaoh demanded, his hands grasped her shoulders and he shook her. It was an inappropriate time to think of such things, yet she couldn't help but remember the way he commanded her as if he was sitting on the throne of Egypt, negotiating with delegates and giving orders to his subjects.

"Someone," She gasped, her hand gripped her head tighter and she replied quickly, "Someone's trying to take over my mind."

He hissed dangerously, " _What?"_

 _Téa listen to me—_

"Stop speaking!" Téa nearly yelled, the pounding was getting worse, "Get out of my _head_!"

The smoke from the shadow game disappeared, Marik emerging from the dark clouds and he glared at the fallen female, he growled, " _You!"_

The source of all his problems lay on her knees in front of him. He could feel it. As soon as he turned to face her, his millennium rod blazed beneath his fingertips, nearly burning him. The jam in his dark magic nearly came to a complete stop—this woman placed a suppresser on his magic!

"Stand down, Marik!" The Pharaoh ordered, his burgundy orbs blazing like gold plates. His fists tightened into a deadly grip on soft shoulders, he would rather die than see _any_ of his friends hurt—he knew Yugi would feel the same way.

 _It was Téa._

Téa wasn't supposed to get hurt—it was unspoken rule between him and his friends.

She was breathing heavily, beads of sweat rolling underneath her jaw and down her neck. She began to shake.

"Out of my way, Pharaoh," Marik spoke with venom coating his words; he stomped forward, uneasy movements shaking the way his shoulders moved, "That _woman_ should be sent to the shadow realm—denying me my power—the audacity—!"

"You will not _touch_ , Téa."

It was a hard, steady command, his voice was grand, like a stage—commanding the world to listen and give him their attention.

 _A king._

The smile that covered Marik's face was nothing short of terrifying and dark. His eyes slit, like a snake, glowing with gold and he walked forward, deliberately, meticulous and Yami felt his hackles rise. He spoke softly, "You're right, Pharaoh I won't _touch_ her."

Cautious.

He was so very cautious, because Marik's entire body language was too hostile to even _think_ of something harmless, and so he watched with tense shoulders and anxiety in curling in his stomach.

"I'll _show_ her," Marik cackled, he moved to fast for the Pharaoh to even _blink_ —extending his arm outwards, he activated what little magic he had left in his millennium rod and a force, so thick and so heavy that hummed through the air—slammed into Téa's quivering body, she fell back her head crashing into the metal rail.

The scene in front of her was fading, darkening; something wet leaking from her ears. Blood? She couldn't tell; all she could see was the Pharaoh's fear-filled eyes and his ashen face.

"TÉA!"

Her vision faded to black.

* * *

When Téa woke up, she was in Egypt again. Her head still hurt, but it was bearable. Much to her surprise, the scene in front of her wasn't her secretly desired lavish bedroom, no; she was in a room with windows made from something that looked like glass, bright blue glass.

The kitchen—maybe.

"Teana?" The Pharaoh asked with concern etched in his eyes, "Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. Marik and his rod, the other voice that was trying to _stitch_ it's way into her mind—control. She swallowed thickly, he wanted to control her—her thoughts, her movements, her mouth, her behavior and she _fought_ it. The throb that pulsed beneath her eyelids and the white noise that drummed into her ears had the bile in her stomach flip uncomfortably.

Then she was slammed into the metal pole—

Téa inhaled quickly.

She shook her head and replied, "I'm fine. I probably just need some rest?"

It sounded like a question.

He asked quietly, bring his hand to brush her hair, "Is your hand still in pain?"

Téa looked at her right hand, there was a scar, but it didn't hurt more than it usually did, so she answered back casually, "No. It's fine. How is Ahu?"

The Pharaoh sighed, "He refuses to eat."

She blinked before furrowing her eyebrows, "Wait—what? _Why?_ "

He winced slightly at the question, his eyes softened, he had to force the words out of his mouth, and responded, "Ahu's mother died last night."

" _What?"_

Téa threw her white shawl that was hanging dangerously low on her shoulder, over her clavicle and begun to walk with brisk strides. She was gone for _one_ night—how could she _just_ die?

"Teana listen to me," The Pharaoh started, he matched her quick pace with ease, his cape fluttering under rapid movements, "Ahu said she was sick for a long time, there was too much damage—they couldn't help her."

"It was only a matter of time."

She hated how rational he was.

Her movements began to feel like lead, heavy and trudging—she sighed, walking slowly—he matched her.

"I don't like the thought of children losing their parents," Téa admitted softly, "It's not fair."

He agreed with her, "Death is part of one's life. It is cruel to have a child's parents ripped away from them, but the Gods must have their reasons."

She held her tongue—she didn't think the Gods were responsible for this disaster. She thought it had to do with something much more smaller, and less concentrated. The political factions in Egypt were split between different groups of strength and power. Egypt, or the capital was under the Pharaoh's control. Countries loathed the Pharaoh because of his power over the Nile and his abundance of resources.

But a leader who is loved by everyone is not a leader worth having.

When the King and Queen reached Ahu's room, she hesitated—her fingers grasping the indent in the door, but not sliding, at least not yet.

"Teana?" The Pharaoh held her shoulders with strong hands, his voice deepened into concern.

She blinked, her arms tensed, "Sorry—I just, I just don't know what to say to him."

Yami understood. It wasn't a comfortable position to be put in and Ahu was only a child—eight years of age he was. He, himself, was only ten when he lost his father, but he was never alone.

"It will be okay." He paused, the door seemed a bit sturdier than he imagined, "You will be okay."

Sometimes Téa wished she could have the Pharaoh's confidence.

She opened the door.

Ahu, curled into a ball on top of dark violet blanket, his head resting against the pillow and his back faced against the door. Her fingers trembled, but she eventually walked towards the side of the bed he was facing. When she sat on the bed, she called out softly, "Ahu?"

Green eyes opened, it was soft like a leaf, albeit hazy, but it was as if he were dazed, tired. "Your highness, is something wrong?"

She smiled despite herself, "I should be asking you that."

He stiffened, but didn't say anything. If anything, he curled himself tighter into a ball, is head pressed on the tops of his knees, and his breathing became muffled. Her fingers hesitated; she placed her hand on the back of his shoulder, and rubbed his back in a soothing motion.

Téa honestly didn't know if she was speaking the truth when she added in after, "It's going to be okay."

 _No it wasn't._

She didn't need negativity to cloud her mind—what she needed was a distraction from the pessimistic nature of the situation, she wanted to laugh with darkness, but how could you _not_ be pessimistic when—when you speak of death? His mother is dead, his father is missing and he's still a child—a mere child exposed to the hideous things and beliefs of the world.

"Do you have any older siblings?" She blurted out blankly—did he have _younger_ siblings? Siblings that she hadn't even _begun_ to fathom—

He shook his head.

Her shoulders hunched, she didn't know if it was from relief or if it was from something equally tiring. It was the exact precautions that she should've taken before she basically _ordered_ them to reside at the palace. She used to think that things were meant to be completed accordingly, that there was a certain pattern, perhaps a sequence, or even an equation that could get her out of trouble—logically speaking of course.

But lately, things kept coming at her and it forced her to act and not _think_.

 **X**

The throne room wasn't exactly her favorite place to be in, in Ancient Egypt. Unfortunately, her duties as Queen forced her away from Ahu and into the political aspects or conflicts of her country. With a pensive face and a hand tucked underneath her chin, elbow leaning against the handle of her chair, she looked as if she wanted nothing more than this meeting to be over.

"—problems!"

"Commercial goods can be traded among—"

"—Barley isn't the issue—"

"—inexpensive. The farms are continuing to see major obstacles in accordance—"

"—livestock. It continues to remain poor and rare if we do not domesticate these farms in the northern regions—"

According to Téa, most of the problems that merchants and traders came to the Pharaoh with were about money. In her eyes it didn't seem important enough to deem urgent. Wealth, while it had its values, did not make men loyal. The real problem she begun to see in these men were the beginnings of corruption. One of the main issues that brought Egypt towards their downfall.

Where there was money, there was greed.

Then, there came a man, that was not Egyptian, he entered the throne room with broad shoulders and a thick accent.

A diplomat, she assumed.

"Your excellences', I am Menes, a diplomat of the kingdom in Kurif, just west of Egypt's capital," Menes bowed, his eyes were those of a snake—no hawk, sharper than a blade, but bleaker than a storm.

"We've met before," The Pharaoh started, his eyes glinted gold, "At the annual festival here in the kingdom."

Menes smiled crookedly, "I am pleased that you remember me, Pharaoh."

Téa did not speak, just looked with crisp blue eyes. His presence was like a dark, murky, shadow that sent the hair on the back of her neck standing, taut and strong. It was like when Yugi dueled in shadow games, that heavy sort of rain that falls sharply onto the heart, burning with darkness, drowning in despair.

"I would like to construct an…agreement that would not only benefit in the country's security, but more importantly, a healthy relationship between both of our kingdoms."

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Set's eyebrows rose in question.

"And what would this…agreement compose of?"

Téa's lips twitched—he's purposefully playing into the diplomat's hands.

He smiled again, with quick fingers he motioned the distance between him and the Pharaoh, he answered brightly, "As I said previously, relationships between kingdoms are healthy for the lives of our people—"

 _A threat?_

To Téa it surly sounded like one, albeit politely worded.

 _But why threaten your own people?_

"—Constitutes that the emerging trade which developed in the south—"

 _Trade has nothing to do with this political tie—_

"—would like to offer you one of our own princesses for a wife—second wife."

Every cell, every nerve, every _thought_ in her body froze, it was as if ice contracted between her soul and her heart. Her spine felt as if it was steel, and she knew that her husband could feel the tension within her body without even having to look at her.

The silence was earsplitting.

Menes did add in after some _much_ needed thought, "You may choose which of the four princesses, of course."

Not even the royal court could speak—

The Pharaoh could not even begin to believe his own ears. He knew that having multiple wives was common for kings—he _still_ had his royal harem, but his father did not take up any other wives—only his _mother._ And he couldn't even imagine— _imagine_ having the same relationship he shared with Teana, with someone _else._

He blinked a couple times before he realized—that he didn't answer, and he could feel the tension rolling off in _waves_ off of his wife.

"I—no."

Menes flinched back as if in shock, "I—I beg your pardon?"

"No," The Pharaoh spoke with much needed control. Amethyst orbs flickered towards his wife's figure beside him, "I already have a wife—I do not need anything else."

"Forgive me your highness, but you have yet to produce an heir—I am certain that it isn't your blunder," Menes shifted his from to look boldly at the queen in a pointed manner.

Red.

She could only see red.

Téa raised her ice blue chips, glaring at the man with barely contained wrath. Her fingers curled, leaving deep crescent halves in her palms. She could've cursed the gods of where she sat—it was _fury_ that filled her soul, and enraged her heart _._

And it was understandable, according to the very thin thread of rationality that held onto her like a leech in the back of her brain. She was from the twenty-first century, and things like harems and polygamy was forbidden in her time—it wasn't even a plausible thought.

The Pharaoh spoke again, his voice grand like thunder and the sharpness of his eyes was nothing but a mere warning—it was a darkness that she hadn't seen in some time. "I have only one wife and will always have one wife. The reason that we do not have an heir is none of your concern."

"My Pharaoh—"

"Menes, you have overstayed your welcome," It was Isis who spoke with a frigid tone—arctic even, and it was the first time Téa had heard her spoke since the dreams started.

The blatant chauvinistic attitude was more of a provocation rather than his words.

Three guards quite literally shoved him outside of the palace doors before he could get in a word in; it wasn't a pleasant escort so to say.

The tension hadn't left nor had it began to fade.

Silence filled the room.

"Pharaoh," Shimon started, his hands gripped his books tightly, he coughed, and he looked quite uncomfortable when he said, "Menes does have a point."

He snapped his head towards his Vizier, the betrayal and the shock were blatant in his eyes unlike his tone, "Excuse me?"

"I mean no disrespect, my king but, rationally speaking, if something were to happen to you, you do not have an heir. There is no one to take your place as Pharaoh and the Queen would have to marry, again." The old man scratched his beard, a bit discomfited with the ugly truth.

The expression on his wife's face was unreadable and that made the knot in his stomach tightened.

The Pharaoh swallowed thickly and sighed, he looked over at his wife's stony eyes and sighed, "We have not been trying to have a child, and it has only been six moons since I've married and twelve since I became Pharaoh. We agreed to wait until it was a safe…period of time in our present before we can welcome our child into the world."

Well— _that_ was news to Téa.

That's why they haven't—haven't tried—she shook her head internally.

And she whole-heartedly agreed.

She wasn't ready to have a child—not only that, she didn't want to bring a child into the world with the fear of her child being taken away from her.

But, Gods, it was too _much_ tension—she needed a time-out, she needed a breather and—

Go.

 _She needed to get the hell out of there._

Téa stood up and walked out of the throne room with quick steps. She couldn't even look at her husband, despite his eyes on her and the royal guard—because the amount of information she received made her head _hurt._

That the world that she knew as the past, believed in those customs that were forbidden in her world, and _she did not like it._

She didn't.

But this wasn't her world.

* * *

"You're not supposed to flick the stone up when your skipping stones." Téa suddenly announced, Ahu flinched, but otherwise did not react.

He was in the garden in the back of the palace, throwing stones into the small pond in the back. Quiet and not with a guard in sight, it was almost desolate. For once, it wasn't sunny in Egypt, it was cloudy, and the air was colder—nippier. It made the garden look more of a something out of history books.

"Trying twisting your wrist," Téa used her pointer finger to lift up his wrist just slightly, so the appendage lay on an angle, "And flick it forward."

Three skips.

"Good." She smiled.

Green eyes flickered over to her face, she couldn't tell if it was eyes that were big or if it was simply because he was a child that his eyes were _that_ big. But they were wide and filled with nothing but weariness, the innocence she had seen for minutes every time she was asleep—shattered.

She picked up a pebble and twisted her wrist.

Four skips.

"Do you like to skip stones, your Highness?" Ahu finally said as he picked up a shiny rock, a half size smaller than his wrist.

"Sometimes," Téa spoke truthfully, "When I'm bored or when I want to think."

"Are you bored right now or do you want to think?" She blamed the harshness of Egypt that made this boy grow up too quick for his own age; he was incredibly shrewd.

Téa answered him honestly, looking up at the sky; she watched the grey clouds highlight the almost eerie light beam, "To think. Being Queen isn't all kittens and rainbows."

Ahu blinked green eyes, "What's a rainbow?"

This time she blinked, "You haven't seen a rainbow?"

He shook his head, he frowned, "I never even heard of it."

She ruffled his hair with quick, light strokes, the crackle of thunder reverberated, silvery light drowned the garden in an ethereal moment, "Maybe you'll see one today."

"Rainbows form when there is rain?"

Téa nodded, "That's partially true," she shrugged and raised her hands in the air, "But you need a little sun too."

The look on Ahu's face was something she never thought she'd ever see for a very long time, the crinkle of his forehead, the marred scowl and his red cheeks—pouting, and it was so very cute that she laughed.

She laughed and laughed.

Ahu pouted again, "Stop laughing at me!"

Téa wiped a tear, she smiled brightly, "Sorry—sorry." Her fingers grasped his cheeks in both hands and her thumbs moved over the delicate cheekbones in small circles, "It's just that you're so cute!"

When the cheeks beneath her fingertips felt hot, she realized he was blushing.

Téa commented softly, releasing his cheeks, "After it rains, it shines and if you're in the middle—there's a rainbow."

Ahu frowned, but didn't say anything after.

"Teana—Ahu, there are you are." The Pharaoh's voice broke the light atmosphere, his bracelets jingled, glinting gold that seemed like an off yellow when the eerie white light from the clouds glistened over it. He crossed his arms, not looking at her, but the young boy instead, he continued, "Mana was looking for you, she said something about a game in the magic room?"

Green eyes lit like sage, his smile was a bit wobbly, but it formed unceremoniously, "Where is she?"

"Here I am!" A voice that sounded like a cherub piped, with brown thick hair and wide eyes, she peeked from the corridor, a smile on her face, "C'mon, let's leave the stuffy royals to their _boring_ duties!"

Téa bristled.

Mana winked at her, before she ran off with Ahu.

She didn't know Mana well, but she could feel a strong connection with her. It was like her and Mai—but where that distance she had with her she could see and even feel - it wasn't there with the magic user.

"Are you angry with me?" Yami asked, his voice was deep like thunder itself and it rolled over her skin like rain. He sounded concerned she concluded, and she didn't like the furrow in his eyebrows or the _uncertainty_ she saw in him.

The question finally slammed into her brain, she frowned. She wasn't angry at him—why should she be angry with him? She was angry. She knew that—but she was angry at—at herself?

At least that's what she thought.

"No," She answered back slowly, her blue eyes flickered from the point over his shoulder, to his eyes and she shrugged, "I'm not angry with you."

"Alright," His arms crossed behind his back, finger clasped together, "You're not angry."

Téa stood firmly, arms underneath her chest as she watched him scowling, "That's what I said."

"Then why did you leave the throne room?"

She looked him.

 _Why did she leave the throne room?_

She wasn't angry—she knew that.

Maybe if she kept repeating that to herself—it would make it true.

She just wasn't comfortable with the idea that things like these exist within the time she was in _now._ Independence and pride was something that she believed strongly in, being helpless or not knowing anything for that matter, it made her feel at a lost.

And she didn't like that—she didn't think _anybody_ liked that.

So the question Téa considered is: why?

"I didn't want to be in a room where I was considered a brood mare." She hadn't realized she thought aloud.

The Pharaoh flinched, crimson eyes widened at the harshness and carelessness at her words, and for the first time since he can remember, he was struck speechless. Teana didn't speak like that—didn't speak so spirited. She was _spirited_ , he knew that, but, if he was being completely honest with himself, they should've been honest with each other—but he knew how much she bottled up her feelings inside because the price of royalty isn't cheap.

Téa continued trying to lessen the blow of he words, "So, I left before I could feel like one."

Which didn't help, much.

The Pharaoh frowned, almost insulted, "I would never take another wife even if, gods forbid, you aren't here with me."

"I would still want you to…to be with someone even after I go," She said cautiously, because she wasn't entirely sure.

"My father did not take another wife even when my mother died, I will not stray from my father's precedent."

Téa didn't say anything after.

She couldn't.

He walked towards her and she forced her self not to stiffen at the blatant, "But," Burgundy orbs with flecks of gold glinted in the silver beams that escaped from the cottony clouds, he repeated, "But I understand."

It wasn't that hard to read in between the lines.

And Téa new first handedly knew how hard it was to stay mad at the Pharaoh, so she tried hard not to smile when he pulled her into his arms, her nose brushed the hard ridge of his shoulder bone, her voice was muffled, "I'm still mad at you."

The Pharaoh chuckled, "No, you're not."

And _damn him_ , because he was right.

* * *

 **note: not edited**

Guys, guys—I _am_ alive. But school is a pain in the ass. :(

Trying—trying to find time to write and trying to write after work and school and work and school—and no freaking social life is just horrible.

I try to make each chapter at least 25-30 pages, because I want it to be very detailed and y'know…good.

But, law _is_ time consuming.

ANYWAY, enough of my uninteresting life—people have been telling me, (through PM's and tumblr of course) that the Pharaoh was OOC in the last chapter, just a tad, and I will let you know now, that—I don't think so.

Remember in the first season of YGO Atem was hell-bent on destroying Kaiba, especially at duelist kingdom, and winning the duel. The Pharaoh had darker and more merciless personality. Then he had some character development because Yugi (hello) kind of changed him. Made him more softer and a bit more merciful. Téa doesn't know the Pharaoh as a cruel person, she has only seen brief glimpses of that personality through Yugi, so it's kinda hard to associate the two Pharaohs—because the Yami in the past is darker and doesn't _know_ Yugi, while the Yami in _her_ present is _not._

So you really can't fault him for his personality.

The Pharaoh in the past and the Pharaoh in the present are two different people.

— _Please drop a review!_


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